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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930827">Estel Ereiniel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAshlaLordBogen/pseuds/LadyAshlaLordBogen'>LadyAshlaLordBogen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works &amp; Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basic Training, Bigotry &amp; Prejudice, Bombing, Chess Metaphors, Child Soldiers, Corporal Punishment, Cultural Differences, Cultural References, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Discrimination, Domestic Discipline, F/F, F/M, Gen, Horses, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, It would be considered to be so in Western definition, Its not considered to be child soldiers in context, Letters, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Military, Parental Spanking, Politics, Sibling bickering, Team Bonding, cultural erasure, duty stations, neurodivergent character, terrorist attack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:41:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAshlaLordBogen/pseuds/LadyAshlaLordBogen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Aragorn Arathornion wasn't born in the Third Age, but the Sixth?  What if they were born Arathorniel instead of Arathornion?  </p><p>This is the story of Estel Ereiniel, a teenager who is growing up and growing into the woman she was born to become.  This is the story of a Princess who was born to be a Queen. This is the story of a warrior.  This is the story of a person.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aragorn | Estel &amp; Original Female Character(s), Aragorn | Estel &amp; Original Male Character(s), Aragorn | Estel/Original Female Character(s), Celeborn/Galadriel | Artanis, Celebrían/Elrond Peredhel/Ereinion Gil-galad, Family - Relationship, Friends - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Spooktober 2020!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is already mostly completed, and is technically a repost of something I've previously written, but I'm switching up the style, rewriting and adding.  Concrit is welcome, bookmarks appreciated, reviews are adored, and kudos are loved.  Part of this work is part of a challenge, and those chapters are marked as such.</p><p>Love and Hugs,</p><p>Lady Ash</p><p>I do not own LoTR.  I do own intellectual rights to my OCs.  Please ask permission before using them.  Exceptions made for if you want to draw any of these characters or any of the scenes from this work.  Please just let me know at some point :).</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Each story has a beginning, and Estel's story starts here.  It is not the beginning of her story, but rather, the beginning of the next chapter of Estel's life.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Major thanks to <a href="/users/mjolnir107/rel=">Junebug</a> for the art that she has provided for this chapter.  I love you, darling, and you continue to amaze me with your talent and skill.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>It was a busy day at the Bruinen Airport.  That wasn’t a huge surprise when you took into account that the military Academy of Gondor started term in less than a week.  Military service for all humans started at age 15 for at minimum 5 years.  The Bruinen Airport served the entire North, from the snow packed Lossoth to the mountainous Redhorn Pass, being the largest and most central international airport in the region.  There was another airport in Dale and in Lindon, but they didn’t have consistent service to Minas Tirith or Edoras, whereas the Bruinen had multiple daily flights to both locations.  In the chaos, there was a small group that was not normal for this area, a Númenorian girl-you could tell by her curly hair and glowing skin-and an Elvish family with a mix of dark and light hair, all much taller than the girl.  The girl gave her adopted mother one last hug and turned away towards the gate for Minas Tirith. </p><p>I suppose I should back up and say a bit more about what has happened over the millennia.  The ruling Stewards of Gondor and the horse-lords of Rohan had agreed to form alliances with the Elvish settlements-though agree is possibly too strong of a word, providing mutual defense, resource sharing, and trade routes when there was a massive plague that nearly wiped out the entire human population.  Elves, for the first time since the second age, had helped to guard the Black Gate-keeping watch with their human cousins as the human cities recovered and began to flourish again.  Once the Elves got involved again, their curiosity wouldn’t let them back off, the rate of innovation and new ideas being helped along by elven knowledge and accumulated information.  The military had gained amazing fighters and even better instructors, although watching a new recruit’s posture change simply whenever there was a tall individual in the general area was certainly amusing. </p><p>The Dúnedain are still treated poorly and with distrust by humans and hobbits, but the dwarves respect their prowess in battle and the elves remember how they were treated whenever they needed help by the Dúnedain.  The hobbits forget that the children of Númenor are the ones that ensure their continued safety and tranquility.  There was an incident around 15 years ago that nearly wiped out the rest of them-most humans would say good riddance, but not me.</p><p>The humans of the South and Dúnedain had agreed to set up a draft to assist with the defense of key areas, the breadbaskets of Ithilien and the Shire, key cities like Minas Tirith, Edoras, Caras Galad, Lindon, Imladris, the Greenwood, Dale, Erebor, the Black Hills-although the dwarves tend to take care of their own security and that of their neighbors.  This draft forced the humans to pass a law requiring humans to go into the military for at minimum 5 years.  Most stayed until they were ready to start a family, taking up a trade and settling down in a city. </p><p>The line of Kings was rumored to have been broken a millennium ago, but that didn’t stop the hope that there was someone who could take up the magic and serve the White City again.  The fact that the most likely candidates were Dúnedain was conveniently ignored by humans. </p><p>And who am I, dear reader?  If you keep reading, you might find out.  Am I simply one person, or many?  I will answer this question by the end of this tale, although you may deduce who I am well before then.</p><p>Now it’s time to go back to that strange girl with the elvish family.  On closer inspection, Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrían and their oldest, Celwen were the elves, which leads me to believe that the Dúnadan girl was none other than their adopted daughter Estel. Estel was quite petite by Elvish and Númenorian standards, and on the shorter side of average for human women.  Her skin was a glowing porcelain, hair the color of spun wheat, eyes of blue-gray that could change to the blue-green of the ocean depending on her mood.  She had been well-educated, to the standards of Tirion before the ages of the Sun.  She had been sent to her relatives in the Angle, to learn and to understand.  Some of her experiences there haunted her to this day, vivid nightmares sometimes visited her, and the first time someone snuck up behind her (it was Elladan, trickster that he is), they ended up with a bruised eye and a broken nose.  Whispered accounts of the tale had spread like wildfire through the hidden valley, and when someone asked about her reaction she asked if they really wanted to learn about raiding parties coming into villages to plunder and steal or how few resources were available for far too many people.  The valley didn’t ask for any more details-they didn’t want to know.  The conclusion that happened behind closed doors and in murmured conversations was the girl had taken lives.  She had taken lives, quite skillfully for someone of her age.  She had been 13, far too young, but needs must. I had watched her, although she couldn’t see me.  I wanted to be able to support her, although it may not have been welcome, for she knows me not and spirits have very rarely been kind to our line.  She had grown up, harshly and quickly.  The royal family kept a close eye on her, making sure she went to a mind healer.  Estel healed, but part of her would always remember her experiences there.  It had left a lasting scar for her. </p><p>Estel had turned 15 in March, but the next academy classes started in September to give the city time to cool down from the heat of summer before bringing more people in to train them.  They called basic training Academy Classes, for some reason.  Probably to make it sound nicer than it was.  It was most certainly effective, but there were definitely concerns that should be addressed, not that it would happen any time soon.  She had also made sure to travel light, only bringing a pack containing the bare essentials; a change of clothes, her identification papers, some dried meat and berries, and enough money to buy her way home-by bribery or by alternative forms of travel.  She was wearing dark leggings, moccasins, and a plain shirt.  As she made her way onto the plane, looking for her seat, she looked back one last time to see if her family was there.  She didn’t see them, so she straightened her posture and settled in for the flight. </p><p>Looking around, she saw many young men and women about her age.  Some were with family while others were by themselves.  The plane eventually took off and landed a few hours later in Minas Tirith.  Going through customs was easy enough, the relationship between Gondor and the Hidden Valley has always been cordial-at least on the surface.  Right before stepping into the White City, the customs official gave her directions to the barracks she should report to.  Smiling and saying thank you, Estel Ereiniel entered Minas Tirith. </p><p> </p><p>Reaching the barracks required passing through three levels of the city.  These barracks also held the offices for the DIs-the drill instructors, demons if you asked the cadets.  Going to the front desk, Estel explained that she was reporting for her first year of the draft and had been directed to go there by a customs officer.  The receptionist nodded in understanding and directed her towards a back office with the name of Theodlac on the door.  The girl knocked on the door and stepped back so she was out of the way.  A man of Rohirric descent opened the door and spotted her.  He was of average height, unremarkable except for his blond hair.  Estel saluted, clenched fist over her heart and head bowed before straightening “I was directed by a customs officer to come here.  My name is Estel of the North, sir.” </p><p>The man nodded, “Come in please, Lady Estel.  We have much to discuss.”  Estel’s expression did not change, but she was quite curious about what could be so important. </p><p>“I am Sergeant Theodlac, Lady Estel.  Sit down please.  The reason I was ordered to talk with you is because you can’t safely use your adopted name here.  It would attract to much attention-both for you personally and for your squad.  You are being put in one of the mixed squads.  Northerners would be noticed.  We have a solution that isn’t optional.  Am I understood?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes sir, I understand your reasoning.  Not that I’m disagreeing with you sir, but is there a reason beyond the unwanted attention that my name would bring?  My birth name is Sindarin and would attract just as much attention as the name I use.” She silently thought that it was likely the humans’ opinions of adoption that prompted this, not the unrest in the city.  It was a good cover story, and a reasonable explanation, so she couldn’t really say anything without more evidence.  Not that she would.  Communications were almost certainly monitored here.</p><p>“We want you to use Ana.  It is close enough to your original name that you can still reasonably use it as a nickname.  There has been a rise in hatred towards the Dúnedain in the city recently.  All of the northerners who have elvish names are being told to choose a name that is close to their own.  Once you are established in the military, you can use your full name, or continue to use Ana.  This is for your safety.” The Sergeant had a good poker face, she would give him that much.</p><p>“I understand sir.  Do I have papers with my new name?”  Time to make them think that she was simply being practical, and most certainly not…looking around at the city for her fathers.</p><p>“The Steward has approved these to be issued to you.  Keep your original papers hidden.”  The sergeant looked down at his desk, an obvious dismissal.</p><p>Estel took the offered file as she stood up and left the office “Thank you sir.”</p><p>The receptionist intercepted her before she left “Oh, Cadet, before you leave.  Your assigned quarters are listed in that file and here is your equipment.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir.  I’m to report there?”</p><p>“Yes.  Your training squad will be there, as will your CO.  Dismissed Cadet.”</p><p>Estel took the offered duffel and left the office after saluting.  She knew that she would be among the minority when it came to her gender, especially if she was promoted to be an officer, or stayed for more than five years.  Very few women stayed passed the five-year requirement.  Those that did, never advanced very far.  She couldn’t think of any high-ranking woman that was in a command position. A few administrative positions, maybe and several DIs, but beyond that, nothing. </p><p>This year, some cadets would be earmarked for fast tracked promotions and command positions.  The only person who was picking them was the Steward of Gondor, Ectheilion.  Family connections couldn’t help you at the end of the day with the Lord Steward.  You had to be good, impress your CO, SO, and the Steward, make sure that you had good reviews and be incredibly charismatic.  It was obviously going to be difficult to stand out as an exemplary individual or unit, to the point that she doubted anyone could succeed.  It was far smarter to simply keep your head down and work to the best of your ability.</p><p>Estel had a sneaking suspicion that more women and commoners would be promoted to high positions than the conservatives on the Council and High Command would prefer.  Ectheilion was notoriously liberal, his firstborn, a daughter named Mítherial was his heir instead of his younger son, Denethor, and it was his command that started the fast-tracked promotions.  Eventually finding her way to her barracks, Estel knocked on the door.  This would truly be the beginning of the next chapter in her life. </p><p>As she opened the door, a burst of noise assaulted her ears.  A woman near the door caught her attention.  Short dark hair and golden-brown skin along with an unusually tall and curvy frame.  “Ana of the North, I presume.”</p><p>Estel nodded “Yes ma’am.  Reporting for training.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cadet Ana, I am Sergeant Yasmin bint Umbar.  You are under my command for the duration of your training.  You are being assigned to Squad Alpha.  We have high hopes for all of you.  Don’t disappoint me.”</p><p>“Yes Ma’am.”</p><p>“Dismissed Cadet.  Do try to remember that you are no longer in the North.”</p><p>Estel saluted and followed the signs to where her squad would be, purposefully ignoring the sergeant’s dismissive tone. She had been warned of the blatant hatred of anyone of mixed descent.  She had hoped it wouldn’t be this entrenched, but culture could be changed.  As could prejudices, although those were far more difficult to pull out from the root. </p><p>She knew of Sergeant Yasmin bint Umbar.  Anyone who had been paying attention to Southron politics for the past 10 years knew of the captain-prince’s daughter.  She had defected to Gondor when her father refused to allow her to captain a Corsair, one of the best naval ships in the world, despite having more qualifications and a better reputation than all of the other candidates combined.  Umbar was notorious for refusing women to become powerful public figures; financial, military, political or social.  No woman was allowed to command or train others.  Somehow, this woman’s life forced her to take field command, until her own father stripped her of her command and citizenship in Umbar.  Yasmin managed to find her way to Gondor, stealing a ship and sailing up the Anduin to try and serve Gondor’s military.  Andammë Galadriel greatly respected her determination.  She would have to let her grandmother know that she was to be trained under one of Umbar’s great ship captains.</p><p>Estel found her squad getting to know each other, chatting and laughing.  There were two males and a female, which made sense.  From what she had seen of Gondor’s organizational charts, most training squads were kept together if at all possible.  There was a bond that formed during basic training that could not be replicated elsewhere, at least according to conventional military wisdom. </p><p>“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Estel asked teasingly.  She was praying that she wouldn’t have to deal with hatred from her squad.</p><p>“Oh, you must be Ana.  I’m Mítherial, that’s Cody and that’s Quinn.”  A raven-haired beauty said.  She was tall, with shoulder-length straight hair, dark skin, and dark eyes.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m Ana.  It’s nice to meet all of you.  Ready for the next few months?  I have a feeling we’re going to go through hell before we’re allowed to serve.” Oh, thank the Valar.  They didn’t sound like they hated her, simply because she was of Númenorian descent.</p><p>“I have a feeling you’re right.  You’re a Northern girl, right?”  Cody, who had dark hair and dark eyes asked.  He was probably of mixed descent, Gondor and Southron if she were to guess, based off of his accent.  The teen was tall for someone without a lot of elvish blood.</p><p>“Yes, a small village near the Hidden Valley.” Estel lied.  It was close enough to the truth.  <em>Where was this going?</em>  Estel wondered.  She knew that her long curly hair was a dead giveaway as to her mixed blood and most native Gondorians-and southerners had a problem with the Dúnedain.</p><p>“I heard that there was snow on the ground constantly and that the sun never shone.  Is that true?”</p><p>Estel laughed heartily, partially because she was relieved “Great Valar no!  The snows only last from December to March, at most!  It’s actually really sunny usually, but most of us are pale because of the angle of the sun.  It’s not as intense as it is down here.  I fully expect to get a sunburn whilst here.”</p><p>“Your accent is so pretty.  It sounds like a noble’s accent here.”  Quinn remarked.  He was of average height and had the distinctive red hair and blue eyes of Dol Amroth. </p><p>“Really?  I’m not that high up.  I live in a village!” Estel forgot to mention that most of the Dúnedain were descended from Arnorian nobility and courtiers.</p><p>“You’re going to need to cut your hair or pin it up.  I know that they make exceptions for you Northerners on the hair length-it’s a cultural thing, right?”  Mítherial said.  Estel made the connection finally-it had been irritating her-Mítherial must be the Steward’s daughter.  She was really pretty, Estel noted absently. </p><p>“Can you help me with it?  I know how to pin it up, but I’ve never done it by myself.  I have 4 sisters and they’re all older than me.”</p><p>“Of course!  Really?  I’m jealous!  I’m the older sister and I only have a younger brother.”</p><p>Estel smiled as she went into her kit to look for the pins that were standard in Northerner’s kits.  Locating them took almost no effort at all, they were at the top of the bag.  It took Mítherial and Estel a fair bit of time to finish braiding and pinning the hair into place, so it was at regulation length.  Her wheat blonde hair was obviously getting darker when you could see it all together.  It wasn’t obvious what color it was darkening into, but you could definitely tell it was changing.  As Mítherial and Estel worked on her hair, the squad continued to talk, developing a friendship that would last until their deaths.</p><p>Days passed and a schedule developed.  It was grueling and exhausting but rewarding.  They started melding into a single unit-Ana, Mírial, Cody, and Quinny were a seamless unit, and they were joined by the other squads that made up their combat group-Damon, Heimir, Hilde and Waleed formed Beta squad, Alan, Freya, Tamaraa, and Freodhoric were Charlie squad and Zoey, Rhys, Hippolyte, and Raashid made up Delta squad.  Their next 15 weeks would determine how well they could work together, and how much they would learn.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Training</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is a series of vignettes going over Combat Group Purple's training, through a mix of narrative, letters, and reports.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have been lucky enough to be given fanart by my lovely <a href="/users/mjolnir107/">Junebug</a> I have included it at the end of the chapter. </p><p>Major thanks to <a href="/users/cain_kakushi/">CandyCain</a>, <a href="/users/teadear/">Dear</a>, <a href="/users/thatanon1/">Nonnie</a>, <a href="/users/bionicotaku/">Flampy</a>, and <a href="/users/colours/">Flora</a> for being the best cheering squad an author could ask for.  I love you all and you deserve all the praise I can give you.  </p><p>Parts of this chapter are part of the Spooktober 2020 challenge that I took part in.</p><p>Extra special thank you to my lovely Bear, who helped me proofread and brainstorm large parts of this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Week One </strong>
</p><p>Mítherial groaned as her alarm went off.  She wanted to snuggle back into the warm sheets but started to stretch out.  Mírial had been woken up enough times by buckets of cold water and damp bedding to know that she didn’t want to be caught unaware.  Her spine popped as she rolled onto the floor and forced herself to move.  After getting a cup of coffee, thank the Gods for Ana, she was ready for the day.</p><p>“Ana, take a couple people to clean up and do an inspection.  Cody, make sure we have provisions and whatever else it is we may need for the day.  Quinny, make sure the Sergeant isn’t awake yet.  The last thing we need is for her to wake up before we’re ready.”</p><p>Nods from around the room acknowledged the orders and started the day.  Ana, Alan, Rhys, and Hilde made quick work of the dishes and small kitchen so that it was shining before checking the bunks and footlockers, and insuring they were in order.  Cody took Freya and Freodhoric to look in the squad bag and find whatever was missing from being used the day before.  Quinn went by himself to check the punch board to see who had signed in for the day. </p><p>“The rest of you, come with me.  We get to have fun and warm up before the Sergeant gets her hands on us.”  A round of complaints-mostly good-natured-followed that statement as the rest of the squad started to follow Mírial outside.</p><p>“She’s five minutes out.” Quinn reported, sounding like he had run from the board back to the barracks. </p><p>The group fell into formation as Ana, Cody, Alan, Rhys, and Hilde took their spots.  Freya was the last to arrive, handling the squad bag like it was a hot potato and giving it to Ana with a smirk.  <em>Better her than me</em>. Mítherial thought.  Ana may be beautiful, but that wouldn’t save her.  Mírial would rather take a dip in Mount Doom than have to deal with that bag.</p><p>Precisely five minutes later Yasmin strode into the practice grounds that their squad had been assigned.  As one, the group came to attention and saluted.</p><p>“As you were, cadets.  Cadet Ana, your report?”  Yasmin asked.  She was no nonsense and took no prisoners when it came to their training.  Most of the training that took place here was about working cooperatively.  They had already been trained in the basics of combat-the Northerners more than the basics-they had already had to fight people, not just dummies made out of straw and leather.  The few Northerners had made it quite clear that there was a difference between the human settlements of Bree and Dale and the Dúnedain in appearance.  The Dúnedain couldn’t pass as people from the Plains or Southerners.  Most of the frontier towns had similar issues in the South, but the Southerners here were all from the city or their surrounding suburbs-either Minas Tirith, Dol Amroth, or Edoras.</p><p>“Ma’am.  All persons accounted for and all paper reports gathered.  I have them here.  Barracks are inspection-ready and will pass.  Chai is waiting for you on the warmer.” Ana said.</p><p>“We’ll see about that, cadet.  I’ll take the reports and you lot can start a lovely run around the city.  Dismissed.”</p><p>Ana handed the reports to the Sergeant and then the combat group started their run around Minas Tirith. </p><p>Their very long run around Minas Tirith. </p><p>That was timed. </p><p>Mítherial was not a fan.</p><p>After the run was the gods-awful obstacle course.  It was a minor improvement on the running but having to get through an obstacle course as a group was not fun.  And there was mud that got everywhere.  Weapons drills were next, thankfully.  Mind-numbingly boring, but she was clean.  From time to time, her eyes would wander away from their weapons, and towards a certain blonde before jerking back to pay attention to the task at hand.  After cleaning their weapons, it was time for another run.  Yay.  If they were lucky, they would be able to sneak in some food before their next task, whatever that may be.</p><p>As they ran, Ana passed food out on the sly.  It wasn’t the best of food-mostly bread and hard rations, but it kept them going.  They hadn’t been caught yet, and Ana had become a master at concealing their food stores in the squad bag.  Ana had also taken to teaching basic Sindarin to anyone in their group who asked.  Talented, multi-lingual, and pretty.   Mírial certainly had good taste, if she said so herself. </p><p>
  <strong>Week Two</strong>
</p><p>“Fuck” Damon hissed as he cut his thumb open with a blade.  Ruby red blood immediately started to flow.  He must have hit a vein.  That was just what he needed today.  They had weapons training later today.  Fuck, double fuck, and damnation.  He would have to field strip his guns while having an injured thumb.  <em>Fuck.</em> And he would have to clean his blades. </p><p>This was going to suck. </p><p>Astronomically. </p><p>With feeling.</p><p>The gods hated him, obviously-or maybe just Lady Luck.</p><p>Hippolyte, who had been sitting next to him took the bandages she carried out of her pack and wrapped his thumb saying “let’s leave it like this for now, Dae. Put your gloves on before the captain sees you bleeding. I’ll have someone clean it out and put stitches in it at the next break. I think we have theoreticals with the captain for another hour or so and then we are relatively free of supervision until we have our weapons practicals. “</p><p>Damon noted gratefully.  The problem with cutting his thumb on his dominant hand was the loss of dexterity and how long it would take to heal.</p><p>Thumbs were necessary.</p><p>And they bled.</p><p>A lot.</p><p>Hippolyte complained about them, often.</p><p>Especially after working out of one of the clinics.</p><p>Quinn was the one who worked the most with soldiers – he had no patience for children whining. Hilde surprisingly had the most patience-or maybe not so surprising. She had 10 siblings after all – a rarity these days.  Tamaraa was a bit of a brat, honestly.  Sweet brat, but still a brat.  Kids <em>adored</em> her.  Adults <em>hated </em>her.</p><p>This lecture was absolutely <em>thrilling</em> if you can’t tell.  Watching parsley grow was more interesting.  It wasn’t necessarily the Captain’s fault though.  He had already apologized for how boring this was but had said that it was important for the evaluations that would happen next week.   Joy.  He didn’t want to.</p><p>Once they <em>finally</em> got out of the lecture hall, Quinn took Damon's shoulder and said sickly sweet, “I believe you are mine for the time being.” Damon followed willingly-the last thing he needed was to be dismissed for something as ridiculous as this. Quinn dragged Damon to sit on his bunk and took off the bandage that Hippolyte had used to stem the bleeding. Damon noticed that there were two beds that were being used, not four. He asked Quinn, teasingly, “I see that there aren't enough beds being used here.  Any particular reason?”  As if he couldn’t hear what that reason was.  Their rooms shared a wall, after all.  Quinn snorted, “shush, or I’ll use tweezers and peroxide to clean this up.”</p><p>“Oh no, not the peroxide” Damon said, sarcasm <em>dripping</em> from his every word.  He was teasing-most of the CG had partnered up with someone, actually-if only for warmth.  Most of the Southerners weren’t used to how cool it got in Gondor, and most of the CG was from the South, with only a few Northerners and the rest being from the Central Plains.</p><p>“The harvest festival is happening soon, isn’t it?” Quinn asked as he cleaned out the wound.</p><p>“Just do it, Quinn.  I know what you’re trying to do.”</p><p>Quinn slapped his shoulder, “Don’t be an ass, Dae.”</p><p>“It’s coming up in a few weeks, yes.  Alan, and Zoe have Thinning of the Veil, first, and I think Rhys and Ana have something similar that they celebrate, but it’s happening sooner than later.  Ow, fuck!”  Damon hissed as Quinn stitched up his thumb.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have been an ass, Dae.”</p><p>“Fuck you, Q.  Seriously though, thank you.  I appreciate it.”</p><p>Quinn’s eyes softened slightly, “It’s not a problem, Dae.  Just be more careful.  We <em>don’t</em> have the resources to make mistakes and cover for you. I will do my best, but if you get caught, you can be dismissed if you aren’t careful.  And I don’t particularly want to lose a friend.”</p><p>“I’ll watch out for myself, promise.  I didn’t realize you thought of me as a friend.”</p><p>“Get out of here, Dae.  We have to eat food and then we have weapons training.”</p><p>
  <strong>Week Three</strong>
</p><p>Alan walked around the market, purposefully not wearing his uniform.  He had his ID, hidden mind you, but the last thing he wanted was to be identified in this market without any sort of weaponry or backup.  Not that they could carry weapons anyway.  It was making him twitchy.  </p><p>It was two days before the Veil would thin, and Ana, Rhys, and Zoe wanted to have an altar, if at all possible.  They would survive without the hot chocolate and the sweets, even without the decorations, although it would break Zoe and Rhys’ hearts.  They had lost people over the past year.  Alan wanted to attempt to do a bit better than that.  He had found a recipe for unleavened bread and a filling that would work with what they had available locally.  They would have to use banana peels instead of corn husks, and they didn’t have any venison, so they would have to use pork or beef, but they would have <em>something</em> to remind them of home.   They wouldn’t be able to do this again after they had been deployed, so they had to make the best of it now. </p><p>It was peaceful here today.  Too peaceful.  It was strange, almost like the city was holding its breath.  Normally there would be a controlled riot at this particular market every day, but they had the best imports and variety of food and animals available in the city.  He refused to pay that price for eggs though, that was highway robbery.  He would have to ask Cody to check with his mother and see if there were any extra eggs.  That pig looked quite healthy, and ready to slaughter.  It would make for good meat.  He spoke with the butcher and called Freodhoric to ask if he would meet him outside of the city walls to butcher the meat with him.  He was interrupted while talking with Fred by an odd sight.  The Steward was out by himself. He noticed Alan and used a standard hand signal to hush and go away.  Alan turned around and walked to the city gates, meeting Fred, who had the butchering tools.  They field dressed the pig, killing it with a swift slash through the neck, splitting the carcass, separating the head, and removing the organs and meat.  It took the better part of the day to complete.  After that, they cured the meat and took it back to the city wrapped in butcher’s paper.  They had a feast to prepare and were looking forward to it.  What the Steward did was his business, no matter who was on their squad.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Four</strong>
</p><p>The full moon was awful.  It had been proven time and time again, anecdotally if not scientifically.  People always act weird around the full moon. </p><p>This was their first week of supervised patrol with a member of the Cýþþgehild.  Rumor had it there had been issues lately.  Zoe didn’t want to know how true that would be.  There were tensions in the city, and the moonlight tended to shine a light on the harsher realities of the city in a way that the light of the sun could not.  Zoe was more vulnerable than the Cýþþgehild, or any other fully qualified soldier.  She wasn’t authorized to wear armor.  All she wore was fatigues, and those didn’t protect her head from anything that wasn’t the sun. </p><p>The Cýþþgehild was a special unit within the fyrd, the combined military forces of the Central Plains and the North.  Originally, they were the Crownsguard, but that changed after the line was broken.  They became the guard for the city at that point. </p><p>Zoe’s train of thought was interrupted by someone coming directly up to her and saying “Hey, good looking,” while blatantly trying to cop a feel. </p><p>Zoe smiled mildly, “Ma’am, I would greatly appreciate it if you would back away.  I am on official duty, and I will act accordingly if you continue to harass me, as a member of the fyrd.” </p><p>Amazingly, that actually stopped her.  She stepped away and melted into the shadows.  Zoe saw what she had been attempting to distract her from.  “This is Delta One at post one one two.  I have a potential situation starting.  Can someone dispatch an available unit to my position?”</p><p>“This is Alpha Four, D1.  I have you in my scope.  The gathering of gentlemen near the storefront that look less than sober?”</p><p>“That’s affirm.  Is there any sort of situation forming further up the street, or anyone suspicious that you can see?”</p><p>“Not from my vantage point.  Green Four, do you see anything?”</p><p>“Nothing from here Purple Four.  I’ll keep a weather eye out though.  You know what they said in the briefing.”</p><p>“Copy the extra eyes and thank you for the reminder.” Ana said</p><p>Zoe would be the main point of contact between any crowd and the Guard.  The de-escalation tactics that she had been taught may have to be used sooner than she would prefer.  Better her than Ana or Rhys though.  With no helmets and their pale skin and curly hair, they would be prime targets for racist assholes to vent their anger on.  Zoe was grateful that she wouldn’t make things worse.  She was pale, but her Riddenmark ancestry gave her an advantage, she didn’t look like a Northerner, and she definitely didn’t look like she had Elvish ancestry.</p><p>After a mostly uneventful patrol, minus the rock that was thrown at her head, seriously, fuck the full moon, Zoe and the rest of her CG trudged back to their barracks.  They had meat left over from the Veil feast, and Zoe was hungry.  They had to start preparing for the Harvest Festival soon, too.  It was one thing that she appreciated about her CG-everyone would pitch in, and were mostly respectful of each other’s decisions, beliefs, and opinions, even if they would tease people within an inch of their lives.  She was lucky.  She had been warned by her parents that she would be unlikely to find people who were likeminded in the Plains, after all.  And Sam.  A wave of grief hit her suddenly. She missed him more than she could say.  The emotions would hit at the most random times, and now was no exception.  Sometimes she would start writing a letter to him only to realize that he was gone.  It hurt, losing him to a car accident of all things.  Especially since she didn’t think there was anything anyone could have done differently.  It made her feel impotent and helpless.  She refused to let others feel that way ever again, if possible. </p><p>Zoe’s future had been <em>planned</em> for her by her parents.  She was to marry up and have a bunch of children. </p><p>Yeah, okay. </p><p>Fuck that. </p><p>She would do everything in her power to avoid that.  She would study, get a career, <em>maybe </em>children and a partner in the distant future, but not now.  She had far too much to do and no time to serve someone’s every whim.  At least everyone here would help out, unlike at home.  She was done with being someone else’s pawn.  It was time to cross the board and become a Queen.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Five</strong>
</p><p>Cody smiled as he watched the kids run around the fairgrounds screaming.  He knew how much he enjoyed playing around in the fairgrounds close to the Harvest Festival when he was younger.  Honestly, he had even played around last year at this time.  He would <em>probably</em> go to get some candy apple slices when he was off-duty.  One of the good things about being in charge of the squad bag was that he could choose what to bring for food.  They had pork jerky, bread, and some kind of fat or protein spread that Ana would hand out at various times.  He followed the sound of shrieking and screaming children to a specific house.  Oh goody.  He hated haunted houses.  Someone was going to have to go through that house to make sure it wasn’t a front for something nefarious.  He was starting to sound like Ana and Mírial.  Both of them were well educated, Ana surprisingly so considering she was a village girl.  The education system in the North, as far as Cody was aware, was limited to the elves, and major cities.  He was no education expert, but that was common knowledge.</p><p>The Festival Committee had requested the Fyrd send someone to stand watch over the grounds.  Normally that would be the Cýþþgehild’s responsibility, but they were currently overwhelmed with the shit show that happened on Thursday.  The Steward was shot.  Not fatally, or overly seriously, but the Steward was shot within his own capital city.  The Cýþþgehild was furious, to put it mildly. </p><p>“Alpha Two, this is Overwatch.  Would you be so kind as to take a walk through that house?  I know how much you love it.”</p><p>“Overwatch? Fuck you.  Also, will do.  As a civvie, I would assume?”</p><p>“You can go in uniform.  Its common enough for off-duty fyrd members to go to these events.  Don’t be obvious, please.”</p><p>“I do know how to be discreet, Overwatch.  Beta Two, can you take over for me?”</p><p>“Beta Two here.  That’s affirm.”</p><p>“Thanks, B2.  Appreciated.”</p><p>Cody took his time wandering around for a while before going into the haunted house.  Taking a look around led to nothing overly suspicious, minus the creepy skeletons and creepier clowns, although he would suggest to Captain Forvendaer that he bring a squad to look around and see what they could see.  It looked like a dead drop for…something.  He wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was, but someone should take a look.  It didn’t look right.  He was absolutely thrilled to be out of the haunted house by the time he walked through it all and decided to treat himself to some of those candy apple slices and then grab some for the rest of the CG.  Overwatch was a raging asshole for <em>requesting</em> he go through the haunted house, and they were going to pay for his snack. </p><p>Take that. </p><p>Petty? </p><p>Absolutely. </p><p>Did he care? </p><p>Not a whit. </p><p>The rest of his shift was relatively predictable.  Children screaming and their parents losing sight of them from time to time.  Bruised hips, scrapped knees, nothing to be worried about.  The kids had fun at least, and most of the adults got to relax a bit, which was partially the point of this particular place-childcare with supervision from multiple adults.  The other part of this was trying to immunize all of the children whenever possible.  You had to have a flu shot to enter the fairgrounds.  They had doses available at the fairgrounds if they didn’t have documentation of their flu shot.  Citizens of Minas Tirith very rarely got the flu.  It was considered a national security issue, and as many people as possible were vaccinated before November first.  It was very effective, or the citizens would never agree to it.  Not that they had much choice.  This was an absolute monarchy, after all.  Officially, anyway. </p><p>Goddess above, he wanted to sit down and get off of his feet.  He had been standing for 9 hours by the time his shift was over.  As soon as the debriefing was completed, he hoofed it to the barracks and pulled his boots off, sighing in obvious relief.</p><p>Quinn laughed at him, “Getting old, there?”</p><p>“You try standing around for nine hours and see how you feel afterwards!” Cody said, indignantly.</p><p>“You are taking a shower before you are going to be invited into my bed.”</p><p>“Yes, your Majesty.” Teasing, now.</p><p>“Oh, go shower, smartass.”</p><p>Cody was more than happy to oblige.  After eating a good supper and finishing up the responsibilities he had to deal with before the next day, he happily collapsed in Quinn’s bunk, his friend warm at his back.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Six</strong>
</p><p>Heimir was juggling a few things for Cody.  He had asked if Heimir could pick up some gourds and pumpkins.  It was apparently some sort of tradition here in the Plains.  Dale was on the border between the North and the Plains and had more traditions similar to their dwarven neighbors than to their southern cousins.  Heimir was Heimir, son of Sigrid, daughter of Bard, by the Daleish tradition.  He was technically in line for the throne of Dale, not that it was taken seriously.  The dwarves and the elves were the major powers of the area, with Dale holding sway over the waterways.  It had worked so far, and it kept them relatively safe.  The elves of the Greenwood weren’t best pleased with them, although some of that attitude had started to transform from annoyance to indifference.  They would even trade with Dale now. </p><p>Anyway, pumpkins.  They were heavy, but Heimir was hoping they would roast the squashes.  They were actually really good if you cooked them right.  Heimir was by no means a prodigy in the kitchen, but he certainly wasn’t as much of a disaster as Mírial.  She actually would burn water when she attempted to make pasta!  He thought that was an urban myth!  It was almost like she was cursed or something.  It <em>also </em>might have had something to do with the cute blonde that Mírial had been looking at, more specifically, said cute blonde’s ass.  Or the fake spider that Waleed had dropped down her shirt.  She managed to transform the benign-looking kitchen towel into a magical implement of destruction.  Waleed lived to regret that decision.  Mírial had chased him around the barracks, and later the training grounds until they were both bruised and tired.  It had been an amusing end of the day, especially with how somber the mood of the city had been lately.  Not somber, it was the wrong word.  Tense, or hmmm, maybe like the tension from a bowstring, ready to snap at any point in time.  That wasn’t the exact word either.  People were angry, too.  It was like the calm before the storm.  Yes, that was the best way to describe it.  While he was ruminating, he reached the barracks, and with them, Cody.</p><p>“Heimir!  Thanks for picking those up.  I know we’re looking to carving them.” Cody said, an undertone of happiness in his voice.</p><p>“You don’t roast them, and the seeds?” Heimir inquired.  He was perplexed by that.  It just seemed wasteful, to him.</p><p>“Not usually, no.  We can roast the seeds and put them in the squad bag, maybe?” Cody suggested.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s fine with me.  It’s a good compromise.”</p><p>Heimir was grateful that they were able to roast the seeds from the pumpkins, if not the pumpkins themselves.  This tradition was making the others happy, even if he thought it was weird.  He liked some traditions better than others, when it came to the Central Plains.  Beta had ended up sleeping together, for the most part.  Whether that was for sex or for warmth and companionship depended on their moods. There were times when Heimir had no desire for sex, and the same for the others.  The warmth was nice, usually, and when it wasn’t the companionship certainly was pleasant.  They were all incredibly understanding.  A relationship like theirs needed communication.  And they had learned already how important it was. They weren’t overt about their arrangement, but they didn’t <em>hide</em> it by any means.  He wished that the attitudes that the Plains had around sex and sexuality were universal, but the North wouldn’t change their minds any time soon.  It was unlikely he would be able to bring them home to introduce them to his parents, even if Damon and Waleed were comfortable with introducing them to their families.  His opinions had certainly transformed, the longer he spent here.  Some of them had stayed the same, but some of them have changed.  He would have to see what other attitudes would transform, for science’s sake, of course.  Studying people is fun, and it helps him to figure out how to act normally.  Being neurodivergent was not fun, but you learned how to cope, or you would be forgotten.  And Heimir had no desire to be forgotten, a nameless and unknown person within the historical record.  He had plans, and those plans were dependent upon him being important and in a position of power.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Eight</strong>
</p><p>It was the evening of the Harvest Festival.  Freya was excited, wanting to see for herself what she had only seen on illicit movies and television sets.  She did not come from a wealthy family, unlike Heimir or from an immigrant and blended family like Hilde.  Her family was really from Laketown.  They were fishermen and sailors, gone for months at a time to the sea.  Her family would not be pleased to see her at this festival.  “Decadent and wasteful” her mother would say, with the little sniff at the end of her statement to show <em>exactly</em> how disgusted she was by the tradition.  Freya thought they were being silly, but she also thought it was wasteful to buy pumpkins, which were <em>perfectly good to eat</em> to carve them, and then not even use the scraps to make food.  At least Heimir had been able to convince Cody that it would be wasteful to not at the very least roast the seeds.  She was well aware who Heimir’s mother was, and Heimir was aware that she knew.  They had agreed to stay relatively quiet about it.  At least he had chosen a relatively safe position, unlike Mírial.  She knew that it made Tamaraa twitchy, and she wasn’t overly patriotic.  </p><p>“Charlie Two, please respond.”</p><p>“C2 here, Overwatch.  I thought we were stood down for the week?”</p><p>“That was until we got a credible threat.  Please have Purple come in to be briefed.”</p><p>“Copy that, Overwatch.” Freya said, disappointed.  She had hoped that she would be able to go to the festival.  She already had her costume and mask picked out.  Brown was supposed to be hosting a Witches and Warlocks themed party, and Tamaraa said she knew where the best places for trick-or-treating were in the city. It wasn’t the first time she would be disappointed, and it wouldn’t be the last, she was sure.</p><p>Walking into the common area for their CG, Freya raised her voice “Guys, Overwatch just commed.  We need to go in for a briefing.”</p><p>Disappointed boos and groans met her words. “I’m just as disappointed as you are, loves.  Don’t kill the messenger.   Go suit up.  We have 10 minutes before we have to be in the usual briefing room.”</p><p>Freya’s words cleared the room quickly.  She, thankfully, had already been wearing her uniform.  <em>What</em> she would give for some actual armor though. </p><p>They had 30 seconds to spare by the time they got to the briefing room. </p><p>Oh. </p><p>This was big.</p><p>The Steward, the Captain, and two Colonels were there. </p><p><em>Shit.  </em>How <em>big</em> was this threat?</p><p>“Combat Group Purple, reporting as ordered, sirs.” Cody said. </p><p>“Thank you for coming so quickly, ladies and gentlemen.” <em>Like they had any choice,</em> Freya thought.  Bigwigs and their fake manners.  “Your mission is as follows.  You have been chosen to act as plainclothes security for the festivities tonight, based on your latest evaluations.  You have been granted permission to have concealed weapons.  You will be dressing in costumes, handing out candy and going to parties, to ensure that the peace is kept.  You will be paid holiday wages for tonight’s maneuvers.  Are there any questions?”</p><p>“No sir.  We can handle everything from here.”</p><p>“Lovely.  You should be issued permanent weaponry soon enough, but until then, you will be making do with the available weapons in the Academy’s armory.  Dismissed, everyone.”</p><p>They all saluted, turned, and left the room.  Once they were in their barracks, and had swept for listening devices, Freya asked, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”</p><p>“We get to be paid to have fun.  We just can’t drink, which is inadvisable <em>anyway</em> when you’re on active duty.  I’m not complaining, and I don’t think anyone else is either.” Cody replied. </p><p>He was directly in charge of the Communications people, and then he reported back to the rest of his squad: Ana, Mírial, and Quinn.  They would then work on tactics and come back to the full group to see if there were any additional ideas or suggestions.  It was a system that worked well for now, although they were aware that they wouldn’t always have the luxury of time to strategize.  It would have to be instinctive by the beginning of the year, unless they wanted to deal with a major learning curve, or a lot of dead people before they figured it out.  It actually terrified her, twisting her stomach into odd shapes and feeling-</p><p>No.</p><p>Stop. </p><p>Back it up a few steps.</p><p>You can’t throw yourself into a panic attack because you can’t stop thinking. </p><p>Freya hated her brain, occasionally. </p><p>The mood that was originally flooding the CG started to return-excitement, anticipation, but it was slightly more subdued than it was originally.  They were looking forward to going out and being mostly off duty.</p><p>Freya went to their bunks and found the dress that she was planning on wearing.  It would work, and it was warm enough that she would be comfortable for the entire night.</p><p>Her last step would be gluing her mask to her face.  She, just like everyone else in the fyrd, knew how to conceal weapons in clothing, and had specialized holsters to do just that. </p><p>They would have a good time, spread out.  Make sure that the city was behaving itself, and there were no skeletons in the closet to hide for the fyrd.  It had happened before, after all. </p><p>Freya had already planned on going to the party that Brown was hosting, and her witch costume looked incredible-all lace and draping fabric.  Mírial had actually given it to her, saying that it no longer fit her, and the dress reminded her of Freya.  She looked forward to wearing it.</p><p>The remainder of the night passed in a haze of excitement.  Thankfully, Freya didn’t see anything suspicious, passing from party to party, going trick-or-treating with others.  She could pass for a 12-year-old if she styled her hair correctly and hid her face in the right manner.  They couldn’t eat any of the candy, much to Freya’s disappointment.  It all had to be turned in to the Steward to be checked for contaminants. </p><p>By the time dawn came, all of Purple was exhausted.  They turned in their contraband, and simply dropped onto a flat surface, where they slept for long enough to be able to function for the rest of the day.  Thankfully, they were off duty for the next day too, otherwise they would be miserable.  It had been a satisfying way to spend her first Harvest Festival with her friends.  Freya mused, half-asleep already, a smile on her face as she curled up to sleep for a while.  She had enjoyed herself, despite her anxieties.  That shows what her parents knew.  After that thought, she knew no more for several hours, sleep claiming her for a time.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Nine</strong>
</p><p>Rhys tossed and turned, as much as he was able to on these bunks.  He normally would bunk with Raashid, but he had patrol that evening, covering for Ana-<em>fuck that was still weird</em>, who was covering for Quinn.  He had gotten ill the night before, and Ana had tested proficiently in medical training.  Rhys didn’t have to guess why.  His Queen had been well trained by her father. Once Rhys <em>finally</em> fell asleep, it wasn’t restful.  He was in the woods near the Angle, near their hunting grounds.  It was still.  To still.  A branch snapped.  He gripped his weapon.  A shouted signal, and he was surrounded.</p><p>“Lookie here, men.  We have a little ranger to play with, and a young one too.  Where’s your daddy, little boy.”</p><p>The man was promptly labeled Creeper One.  Thugs One through Three laughed on cue.  Things just got worse from there.  Blood and ripping, tearing through flesh and bone.</p><p>“Rhys!  Rhys! Sunrise, wake up!”  That was Estel.</p><p>“Estel, what- “</p><p>“You had a nightmare that probably turned into a flashback, love.  You wouldn’t wake up.  And remember to speak Common, love.  You know that I don’t care, but if you want to be understood by the general populace, you probably should switch to common.”</p><p>“Yes, my Queen.”</p><p>“Rhys, they will never find the body.”</p><p>“Screw you, Ana.”  </p><p>Es-Ana snorted, “Love you too, cousin.”  there was no visible change, but Rhys could tell that Estel had shifted her headspace firmly to Ana, instead of Estel.   He was almost certain that he preferred Estel, but Ana had started to grow on him. </p><p>Rhys reminded himself that his Queen had solidified their friendship that long ago day in the woods.  He had no doubts that she would have his back, and he would always have hers, so long as his mind was his own and there was strength left in his body.  He may not have pledged his sword to her yet, but that was more because she wouldn’t let them until she felt that she had earned the privilege.  As if her intervention that day wasn’t enough.  Estel was slightly ridiculous that way.  She would always see other’s contributions and achievements, but she struggled to see her own.  Idiot.  He smiled fondly, as he got dressed.  It was time to get to work, regardless of his unease.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Ten</strong>
</p><p>Quinn groaned as he woke up. The last thing he wanted to be was among these idiots and losers-that wasn’t <em>entirely</em> true, but if he wanted to delude himself in his own thoughts for a few minutes, that was his business. They all thought him a loyal citizen of Gondor, and maybe once that was true, but now after his mother was dead? After his father was declared a traitor to the White City? No. He would not be loyal to a system that has screwed over him and his family. </p><p>He supposed Ana and Mírial were people that he could potentially he be loyal to, maybe even Cody, but they were on the wrong side and they were fighting for the wrong people.  He would be loyal to his Lord Sauron, even if he was doubting that loyalty for the sake of his friends.  Not the Steward and the absent false King of the so-called White city.  It was not innocent, or clean.  It was messy, with a gritty, dark, and thriving black market that was the least of the problems with Minas Tirith.  Someone needed to clean it up, but it suited his purposes, for now. </p><p>Quinn was growing to care for the members of his squad, and he was loyal to them.  His last report to his Lord was remarkably devoid of any and all information regarding his squad.  Even their names were sadly censored.  Such a shame, really.  An oversight on his behalf.  Oops.  He only hoped that the web of lies that he was spinning would hold up to scrutiny.</p><p>He didn’t have time to think about that though.  He took a look at the man sharing his bed-honestly for warmth more than anything else.  Cody was someone who he had let into his bed, at his back and near his neck.  He trusted him, even if neither were interested in the other romantically or sexually. </p><p>He sighed as he pulled his undersuit and boots on, before proceeding to put on the rest of his fatigues.  Cody stirred as Quinn finished holstering his weapons-they had <em>finally</em> been given clearance to wear them around the city.  Like most people had spent time on the frontier, he was proficient in using the blade and the bow-much quieter than guns and more accessible ammunition.  Ana’s bunk was unsurprisingly cold-it was unlikely she spent much time in it now, Mírial having introduced her to the wonderful world of friends with benefits.  If those two didn’t start dating at some point, he would be incredibly shocked.  They would be good together-both were responsible, Mírial more toppy than Ana-unsurprising for the woman who had been raised to be Steward and a Northern village girl-and they were very adept at reading each other already.  And they were an adorable couple-not that Quinn would admit that on pain of death.</p><p>“Quinny, here.” Freya said, appearing in front of him.  She handed him a warm cup of coffee.</p><p>“Bless the Gods for you, Freya.  Thank you.  I need to go check announcements.  Did Heimir have anything for me?”</p><p>“Not that I’m aware.”  She shoved food into his hands as he walked out to check and see what he could see.  His job wasn’t exclusively to see where the Sarge was.  It was partially to understand what was going on in the fyrd.  It was one of those unspoken things.  </p><p>About a month ago Ana mentioned that she didn’t have enough information on what was happening outside of with other cadets.  He pretended he didn’t hear her and reported all the interesting things he saw to Cody.  They had one of the best informed CGs in the academy, if not the entire fyrd.  Okay, <em>maybe</em> he was exaggerating a bit, but they definitely had an impressive network, especially for such a young group. </p><p>Their network reached out far and wide, to all the far reaches of the world, and they had strands of their web that led to the far North and the far South, notorious for how difficult they were to infiltrate. </p><p>Webs of intelligence were lovely, but it was how they were used that determined their usefulness.  Quinn was determined to make sure theirs would help them, and not get them killed.  It had happened before.  He already knew, for instance, that they were being groomed for special operations and off-book operations.  They were a well-rounded team, all having different specialties, and all having divergent life experiences and perspectives.  It would serve them well in the days to come.  Just a few more weeks to go before graduation and their first duty station.   He was ready for it, even if some of the others needed a few more weeks to be emotionally ready to leave the shelter of the city and the Steward’s protection-what a joke <em>that</em> was.  The Steward had no power to protect people within his own city, and it showed.  Tensions were getting worse.  Ana and Rhys had been told that they should not patrol alone, and he would guess that soon they would be told they could only patrol the upper levels of the city.  He just hoped the situation could wait to explode until they were clear of the blast zone, and far away from the city.  Nothing overly interesting today within the fyrd today, sadly, although that could change with the tide.  There would be an exam coming up that they should study for, but outside of that, nothing exciting.  Disappointing.  He wouldn’t have much to report to his Lord today.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Eleven</strong>
</p><p>Hilde tossed and turned, caught in the throes of a nightmare, her heart in her throat and her stomach somewhere around her ankles.  It wasn’t <em>exactly</em> a nightmare, more like a memory that she wanted nothing more than to forget.  Hilde was born to a Umbaran. mother and a Daleish father, hence her name which was actually native to both languages.  She couldn’t find them.  There was low-hanging acrid black smoke in the air, the scent of airplane fuel hanging low to the ground. She was worried-she couldn’t find her siblings either, even after running through the closest thing to a forest they could boast on an island.  A boat perfect.  She would be able to find a way off this island.  She wanted her mom though.  She woke up with a gasp and almost hit her head on the bunk above her.  What in the name of the gods had triggered that?  They <em>did</em> have a horror movie marathon earlier, but she was normally fine with them.  Today was going to suck. </p><p>She registered what had woken her up from her dream.  The alarm.  Fuck.  That was exactly the opposite of what was wanted or needed today. </p><p>Yay.  </p><p>Hopefully it was a drill.  It wasn’t, not with her luck, but hope springs eternal and all that jazz. </p><p>“They need me in the med bay.  Tamaraa, they want you to scrub in for emergency surgeries.  Nothing extraordinary, but they need a set of hands.  Hippolyte, the worst hit was the third level, you and Hilde go there.  I think they want help with triage.”</p><p>“What happened?” Hippolyte asked.  She was the most talkative among them, and one of the least subtle. </p><p>“Mass Casualty Incident.  Something on the third level, near the Northern quarter, but no details beyond that.” Tamaraa answered.  She was a natural leader, and extremely observant besides.</p><p>Welp.  There went her nice easy day.  Even if it was a drill, MCIs took an <em>age</em> to go through the scenario and debriefing, <em>and</em> they had to be taken seriously.  It was real.  The immense pile of rubble in the third level proved that much at least.  The day passed in a blur.  Hilde had no real recollection of what happened that day.  It was going from one patient to the next, horrific burns and lost limbs being the most common things she saw, outside of bodies.  The third level was home to several of the schools in the city.  It was horrifying. </p><p>Hilde had to do an emergency amputation that would probably stay in her mind for many years to come.  She wouldn’t have thought that anesthetic would be one of the first things they ran out of, right before they ran out of gloves.  The screams and moans would probably haunt her sleeping hours. </p><p>Mírial had been taken out of the CG for most of the day by the Steward, leaving Ana and Cody in charge.  Quinn was busy dealing with injuries, so he wasn’t able to help. </p><p>Ana’s skill with healing would have been an asset.  It was too bad that she had to be in charge of the CG.  As it was, Hilde was listening with half an ear to Purple’s frequency.  It sounded like they were helping with finding people in the rubble, freeing up others to guard the city. </p><p>As awful as this incident was, it would help them later, once they were sent to their duty stations.  A grim smile twisted her face as she stepped over a tiny doll.  You could find lessons to learn in everything.  Hopefully they would be left together, and not split up.  It didn’t usually happen, from what Hilde was led to believe, but it happened often enough.  If they were to stay together as they were, they would be almost guaranteed to be sent to the South.  There were to many Southron descended people for it to be all but a certainty.  The people who were left would be perfect to act as back up for the main force.  One of the nice things about being quiet was that she could observe and stay in the background, unnoticed, blending in with the crowd. </p><p>She really wanted to sit down. </p><p>And sleep. </p><p>A book and tea, curling up somewhere in a chair sounded absolutely <em>amazing</em> right about now. </p><p>Too bad it wouldn’t happen.</p><p>As she predicted, she wasn’t able to sleep for more than twenty minutes at a time for the next three days as they cleaned up and treated people.  Hilde never wanted to see so many tiny body bags again.  Ever. </p><p>Eventually, Ana and Cody both put their feet down, telling Command something along the lines of “they are our people, we want them back, and they need to sleep and recuperate.”  Amazingly it worked.  Cody had come and fetched Hilde and Hippolyte from where they had been stationed, practically dragging them back to the barracks because of how exhausted they were.  They slept soundly for an entire day.  The night after that, the screaming started.  It would get better eventually-she hoped.</p><p>
  <strong>Week Twelve</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Report for Ectheilion, Steward of Gondor.  Compiled by Academy Command Staff based on the reports filed by Sergeant Yasmin bint Umbar, primary drill instructor, as well as observations from Forvendaer, Captain of the Guard and other instructors at the Academy.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>Combat Group Purple is</em> <em>a melting pot of cultures, Southron exiles looking for a better future, native Gondorians, Rohirric horse-riders, stoic Northerners.  The squads have been set up two men and two women per squad.  One would be a healer, another would be a sharp-shooter, explosives and heavy hitter expert, and a communication and hacking expert.  All members of a squad have some amount of expertise with all aspects of the trade.  Each combat group has the standard set up of having 4 field medics, 4 explosives experts, 4 comms experts, and 4 sharpshooters.  They should continue being groomed to be Special Operations troops on a fast-track for command.  Squad Alpha is turning out to be a natural command squad, with Squad Charlie being natural Lieutenants. </em></p><p>
  <em>Yasmin bint Umbar wrote in her most recent report that she would recommend this group to be kept together.  Mítherial of Gondor and Ana of the North would be perfect partner-captains.  They could share command well and were likely to develop an intimate relationship, which would only help them more.  This combat group was verbally recommended to the Steward as fast-track command material by Sergeant Yasmin.  We will reassess at the end of their probationary period in 3 months’ time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The time they have spent on guard duty whilst still cadets has been textbook cases of behavior and conduct.  Particularly of interest is their conduct during a recent patrol during which they were the primary reason that a riot didn’t break out.  Also of interest is their SAR abilities that were demonstrated during the recent bombing on the third level.  They do not let their prejudices or preferences interfere in the carrying out of their duty.  It is quite impressive, especially for a bunch of hormonal 15-year-olds.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That all being said, they are still inexperienced, and need further training.  They all have training with horses, and we need a squad in Ithilien.  Our recommendation is that they be posted to Ithilien and eventually cross over into Harad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Burn this letter upon review.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adrahil, Grand Admiral of the Navy</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Week 13</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>To their Royal Majesties Gil-Galad Noldoran and Celebrían, and the Lord Consort Elrond</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the city of Minas Tirith in Gondor.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hello Mum, Dad, Papa,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I miss you all terribly, but I’m sure you’re not surprised by that.  I managed to arrive safely in Minas Tirith without incident.  I had an interesting conversation with my training sergeant regarding my heritage from the West. After having that conversation, I’ve decided to use a variant of my birth name for safety right now.  It’s still jarring to hear that name instead of Estel.  Yasmin bint Umbar is a force to be reckoned with-and absolutely terrifying in the morning without her homeland’s chai. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My squad is quite nice from what I can tell.  Mítherial Ectheilioniel, a dark-haired Gondorian beauty is our weapons expert.  Our healer is Quinn of Dol Amroth, and our comms expert is Cody ibn Gondor.  My combat group is an agglomeration of ethnic backgrounds and beliefs.  We are three weeks from our graduation ceremony.  Mítherial has invited me to stay with her until we ride out to our first patrol in a month or so.  The military has us doing guard duty and psych evals until then, so I can’t come home, even after we graduate. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have my final armor fitting in a few hours.  The armorers are decent, but the style here leaves much to be desired in comfort.  I’ve taken to wearing a full jumpsuit underneath the armor to help mitigate it.  I miss my armor that I left in the Valley, but it would be too obvious of a giveaway as to my heritage. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anti-Dúnedain sentiment has flared up again.  There have been a couple of riots that we’ve had to handle.  No one has been killed yet, but I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time before that changes.  Our commanders have kept all the Northerners closer to the Tower where it’s safer for those of mixed blood.  The city seems to be primed to explode at any point in time right now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry for writing in Quenya tengwar.  I imagine it was a bit of a shock to see that instead of the Common alphabet.  It’s rare for anyone to be able to read the high tongue, let alone the proper script in the South, and our letters are read before we can send them.  The stationary is also not my first choice.  We are issued paper that we have to write letters with.  I wanted my message to stay intact and private from curious eyes.  I have a feeling I’ve made a few mistakes in here, it’s been some time since I written exclusively in tengwar. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again.  Ithilien isn’t as stable as you were led to believe as we suspected and getting a letter out will be nothing short of a miracle.  I hope everyone is doing well and my siblings will decide to let me live for writing to you first instead of them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All my love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Estel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Second Lieutenant Ana Ereiniel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Third Battalion, under the Lord Steward of Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Combat Group Purple, Squad Alpha</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Long Distance Combat Specialist</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Week Thirteen</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>To the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the city of Minas Tirith in Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hello Andammë, Daerada,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I hope that this reaches you before Mum sends the letter I sent to the Valley.  I managed to arrive in Minas Tirith without incident or mass calamity.  I know, shocking, but I’m not entirely my father’s daughter.  I have decided to use my mother-name Ana while I’m here for my safety.  There has been a lot of unrest in the White City of late-the hatred of the Dúnedain has flared again, and guard duty has been hazardous because of it.  I was nearly trampled in the market on the 4<sup>th</sup> level the other day.  Strangely, the only people who are targeted have curly hair and light skin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will finish basic training in three weeks (not that I’m counting), and one of my squad mates-Mítherial-offered to let me stay with her until we ride for Ithilien.  I wish that I could come home for a while, but I’m unlikely to get any sort of leave for quite some time. There are murmurs of us being trained to become a special operations team.  I wouldn’t put much faith in it.  You know how much people gossip and make things up when they are bored.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m in a four-person squad and a four-squad combat group, leading to 16 people that I am responsible for.  I am absolutely </em>
  <em>terrified</em>
  <em> that I’m going to lose someone.  I’ve had a bad feeling since we got the orders, but it could be-Valar willing-just my nerves.  I don’t think that I have enough of Melian’s blood to have a gift for foresight.  I’m including pictures of my squad and my combat group. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I promise to write a longer letter later.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All my love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Estel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Second Lieutenant Ana Ereiniel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Third Battalion, under the Lord Steward of Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Combat Group Purple, Squad Alpha</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Long Distance Combat Specialist</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Week Fourteen</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>To the Princes and Princesses of Rivendell</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the city of Minas Tirith in Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hello all,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you haven’t missed me to much since I left.  I’m sure you can find enough entertainment without me as your scapegoat.  It’s been a long few weeks and I miss you all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Celwen-if you managed to find the note that I slipped you before I left, I’d appreciate if you’d follow it through.  Yes, I know I’m not supposed to use the skills I learned in the Angle on you, but since when have I behaved?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish I could write a longer letter, but I have to post this before my patrol, and I know that my letters are being read.  I’m hoping I can avoid the censoring with writing in a less common script, but you know as well as I do that any cipher can be broken.</em>
</p><p><em>It’s rather hazardous for any Northerner to be on patrol in the lower city right now.  Some shops have been vandalized-of course there is nothing that the Council can do immediately, and they are very sorry for the inconvenience.  Please cue the rolling eyes and the usual calls of horseshit and inefficiency.  One of the patrols I went on recently was unsettling, to say the least.  We were shot at, and the person got off without being arrested.  They shot at the Steward’s </em>daughter<em>, and no action was taken.  We’re all fine, and there were no injuries because of our armor, but </em>still.<em> Read the letters I sent to our parents and Grandparents, there is more detail in both of them.</em></p><p>
  <em>All my love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Estel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Second Lieutenant Ana Ereiniel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Third Battalion, under the Lord Steward of Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Combat Group Purple, Squad Alpha</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Long Distance Combat Specialist</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Weeks Fifteen and Sixteen</strong>
</p><p>Estel blinked wearily as she tried to clear her head from sleeping.  Wait, no-Ana.  She had to use Ana now.  Fuck that noise. </p><p>By now, none of them needed an alarm to wake them up.  16 weeks of waking up at the exact same time assisted with that. She had to start coffee and food unless they wanted to go hungry.  <em>What</em> she would give for some decent tea.  She dressed into her undersuit and boots before sucking it up and going to the kitchen.  Coffee was the first thing started-unless she wanted a riot, followed swiftly by chai for the Sarge.  Food was next: oatmeal, eggs, bacon, and trout.  Quinn and Heimir had caught the trout the day before, Rhys had slaughtered and dried the meat from a pig with Freodhoric about a month ago, and they were <em>just</em> about at the end of the meat.  Cody, Tamaraa, Waleed, and Raashid had chickens at home, so they had enough eggs to share with everyone.  Protein, sugar, and carbs were the only things that would sustain them throughout the day.  Es-Ana had shared the recipe for lembas, and they made enough for a week at a time.  She had been teaching as many people as she possibly could how to do simple tasks in the kitchen-how to boil water-her train of thought stuttered to a halt as a stunning dark-haired woman stepped into her line of sight.  And the reason why she didn’t want to get out of bed.  They had certainly <em>ahem</em> gotten to know each other quite well.  Mírial had invited her to her bed-it was certainly common enough, especially if pregnancy was not a concern.</p><p>Mírial kissed Ana on the cheek as Ana handed her coffee to her. “Thank you, love.”</p><p>“Food is just about ready.  You ready for this week?”</p><p>“We’re almost done, thankfully.  I think so.  Its evals and fittings.  I’m up for that.  Even if they are mind-numbingly boring.”</p><p>Ana snorted “They do kill a few brain cells every time we have one”</p><p>The kitchen started getting busier as people trickled in.  Freya grabbed a piece of bread to tide her over and ran to grab the bag for the day.  Quinn headed to the punch in board to see how far out the Sergeant was.  Ana had a bit of time to eat something and pull on the rest of her uniform.  As she chewed, she thought about one of her squad-mates in particular.  Quinn had <em>finally</em> confessed that his family wasn’t well-liked in Gondor, and that his father had been branded a traitor.  Ana would be shocked if he didn’t sympathize with the Enemy.  The good thing about him confessing made it easier to gain his trust and monitor his communication.  It made it easier to trust that he would be quiet about any information that he learned about <em>them.</em>  No promises on classified information, but they would do everything they could to mitigate that.  Time for the day to begin.  Yay.</p><p>“Reports, everyone?  If you don’t have them, I’m recommending you for latrine duty.”</p><p>“Yes, bitch, we have them.”  Waleed said, laughing.  “The question is, do you deserve to get them?”</p><p>“If I don’t get them, you don’t get food and I assign you to latrine duty or.”</p><p>“Fine, <em>mom.</em>  I suppose you can have them.”</p><p>Ana rolled her eyes at Waleed as he continued the tradition of being a clown.  She indulged him.  He reminded her of-no, she couldn’t think about them.  She went through the rest of her day mostly on autopilot.  Thankfully they didn’t have weapons drills or obstacle course time today.  They were on guard duty on the first level.  Ana made sure to wear her helmet.  She didn’t want to get rotten fruit in her hair today.  She couldn’t wait until the next rest period.  It wouldn’t happen until they graduated, but she couldn’t wait. </p><p>She heard her comm line crackle to life with a belch of static, “Alpha 4, movement in your third quadrant.  Be advised, we don’t have eyes on all of our usual suspects.” </p><p>It was Overwatch.<em>  Fuck.</em> Her very boring three-hour shift had become very exciting indeed.  Resisting the urge to jerk her head directly to her third quadrant, she opened her comms line discreetly.  “Fours, this is Alpha.  Be aware that we do not have eyes on all of our usual suspects.  Movement in my third quadrant.”  Their usual suspects were the CIs that worked the area.  If they didn’t have eyes-well, it could be bad.  This could be fun.  Ana silently slithered up to the roof of the nearest building with good sight lines and set up a nest for her to shoot from.  She probably would just be using her scope to help others on the ground confirm sightings and maintain situational awareness.  Time to get to work.</p><p>When graduation day came, they were one of the only groups to stay together.  There was no large ceremony or pretentious military parade, only orders and assignments being given out in barracks. They still managed to have one last party for the entirety of their graduating class that lasted far into the night.  It probably would be one of their last chances to be teenagers for a long time, and they made use of it.  Several hangover cures were handed out the next day.</p><p>Estel was the only person in squad Alpha to not have living arrangements in Minas Tirith, although not the only person in Purple, so Mítherial invited her to stay before being shipped out.  The Dale natives and the Northerners-Alan, Zoe and Rhys didn't have anywhere to stay either.  They managed to find lodgings with others in Purple; Cody, Tamaraa, Hippolyte, and Waleed chief amongst the ones who offered their homes. </p><p>Their combat group would eventually be shipped to Ithilien to patrol the area and keep the peace while keeping an eye on the Haradrim border, likely in a month’s time.  Until then, however, the combat group would remain, completing psych evaluations, attending armor fittings, and gathering specialized equipment and weapons for their new roles.  They would also augment the Cýþþgehild and their patrol routes while they were still in the city.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Preparations and Patrol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Now that they had graduated, it was time to prepare for their patrol.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am working on finishing up the next chapter, but it's taking longer than expected.  I'll hopefully have it by next week, but no promises.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>To Second Lieutenant Ana Ereiniel in the City of Minas Tirith in Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the Hidden Valley in the Elvish Realms</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>My dearest Estel,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was good to hear from you, no matter the circumstances.  Your Tengwar is not bad for someone who hasn’t written in it for four years.  Andatar Mátimo and Andatar Macalaurë said it was fine enough, and everyone has been informed to write letters in the Quenya if they want a private message to be received. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mum, Dad and Papa miss you terribly, I had to fight them to be the one to reply to your letters.  The shadows are starting to gather, so I’ll make this short.  Arwen insisted that I send you some of your dresses since you have some downtime, so they are in the package.  I didn’t realize that you weren’t comfortable in pants of any type, which makes sense with how often we wear them at home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The leaves are starting to turn, and Papa has started to go out with the hunting parties to save for winter.  I think he just wants to avoid the “boring Noldoran work” and spend time with Elwen, Arwen, and the Twins since you aren’t here.  I’m glad I’m not the baby of the family-you have to deal with all sorts of teasing from us, but we’re rather protective of you in turn.  No one else gets to make fun of you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Celwen delivered the packages that you left for us.  You didn’t have to leave presents for us to know that we’re in your thoughts.  The notes and treats were appreciated.  I think Mum </em>
  <em>squealed</em>
  <em> when she found the recipe you left for her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your squad seems like a reasonable type, pity that they’re all Southerners, otherwise I would ask if you wanted to recruit them for the Rangers.  What’s this about the Steward’s daughter?  I can read you well enough to know that you’re interested in her.  From what I’ve heard about, she is your type.  Baby sisters should stay little forever though, so I want you to stay about three years old and in pigtails for the rest of your life. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am going to be in Minas Tirith a few days after you receive this letter, so I’ll try to meet up with you.  I am there on official business, but there is quite a bit of free time scheduled in.  Belemer might be with me, something about his network being compromised. Dad said it was fine to tell your squad, and the Steward agreed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maelas insisted that we include the book that you were trying to finish when you left and a fresh sketchpad.  I can’t say that I’m totally surprised with that one.  He’s too much of a bookworm to let you get away without finishing it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a clever tactic separating your full message into several different letters, although I wish it wasn’t necessary.  It was obvious that your letters had been opened before they were sent out.  Be </em>
  <em>careful</em>
  <em> little sister, we want you back in one piece, if only so we can torment you.  </em>
  <em>Behave</em>
  <em> little sister.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Làstril</em>
</p><p>Estel smiled as she read Làstril’s letter.  Big sister was so predictable.  Hopefully, there wouldn’t be anything that she had done that ‘Tril would take exception to.  She was very grateful for the dresses, as she truly <em>despised</em> leggings and pants.  She didn’t want to look further at the package and letters until she was in private instead of the very public post office, so she gathered up the the package after putting the smaller box into the larger one and left the building. </p><p>As she walked towards the Steward’s residence she ran into Cody, her squad mate and comms expert.  Cody offered to give her a hand with the package and walked with her to meet Mítherial.  The pair were allowed into the residence and made their way to Mírial’s room.  Quinn and Mírial were waiting for them when they arrived.  Estel took a deep breath.  Showtime.</p><p>“You wanted to tell us something, Ana?  It sounded serious.” Mírial was the first to break the silence.</p><p>“There’s something you don’t know about me.  I couldn’t tell you without permission from a few people-one of which was your father, Mírial-but I managed to convince them that it was the best option,” Estel was visibly nervous, which was rare for the stoic Northerner, “My true name is Estel Ereiniel of the Hidden Valley.  I am the Noldoran’s youngest daughter.”</p><p>“What else Ana?  I know you well enough to know there is something else.” Cody this time.  Thankfully there wasn’t a tone of betrayal in his voice.</p><p>“The line of the Númenorian kings was never broken.  My biological parents died defending me from orcs.  My first name was Anâriel Arathorniel, heiress of Isildur, Crown Princess of the Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor.”</p><p>“The Heiress of the Stewards of Gondor recognizes our rightful Queen Elessar Telcontar, the Lady Anâriel.  May the Gods bless her reign.” Mírial said “And Ana? I don’t blame you.  You did what you were required to do.”</p><p>“Thanks, Mírial.  Isildur’s heir acknowledges her Steward’s statement and asks for a grace period before being publicly known.”</p><p>“I believe that can be arranged, my lady.  Now what’s the other thing?”</p><p>“Why do you think there’s anything else?”</p><p>“Because we know you, Ana Ereiniel.” Quinn narrowed his blue eyes at her, “Now ‘fess up.”</p><p>“My sister, Làstril is coming on an official visit, and my brother, Belemer, might be coming with her.  I haven’t read the other two letters, but ‘Tril said a few days after I got the letter.”</p><p>“That would make sense.  Dad mentioned something about ‘those damned Councilors sticking their noses into matters of no importance to anyone but the Steward and the Valley.’”</p><p>The group laughed at the impression.  Mírial, it had been discovered, can mimic almost any voice she hears.  It had been used to great amusement by the combat group during basic. </p><p>“We would love to meet her Ana.  You don’t share much of your past, and we want embarrassing stories on you!”</p><p>Estel protested “Quinn!  Please stop trying to embarrass me.  I love you dearly, but it’s irritating.”</p><p>“But it’s so much <em>fun</em> Ana!”</p><p>The four laughed freely.  Estel smiled in relief as she was forgiven.  The four chatted for a while longer before Cody and Quinn had to leave.  Mírial also left the room that Estel was staying in, to go into her office to write up some paperwork.  Estel was grateful for the privacy to open the letters and gifts that her family had sent.  She lifted her unbound hair over to one of her shoulders, so it was out of the way as she opened her letters. </p><p>
  <em>To Second Lieutenant Ana Ereiniel in the city of Minas Tirith in Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the city of Caras Galad in Lothlórien in the Elvish Realms</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hello little sister,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The letter Làstril sent forgot to mention that I will be in Lórien for the next fair bit of time. Much to my surprise, Father asked me to see Daernana about the next warrior’s trials.  The twins and Arwen are probably going to join me to escape the smothering.  I love our parents, truly, but they are far too worried about you right now, so they decided to baby the rest of us. Don’t be surprised if Maelas shows up with Làstril and Belemer, there is this parchment that he simply </em>
  <em>must </em>
  <em>have a look over.  He misses you more than he thought he would baby sister.  Be careful with these riots going on, there’s something deeper happening than is obvious.  </em>
  <em>Behave </em>
  <em>little spark.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you too, kiddo.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Celwen</em>
</p><p>Celwen’s letter made her smile at the familiarity of the teasing tone.  Maelas too?  It could be an interesting visit in a few days.  Thankfully he wasn’t as exuberant as the twins, otherwise she was likely to hide in a closet until they left. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>To Second Lieutenant Ana Ereiniel in the city of Minas Tirith in Gondor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the Fortress-city of Himring in the Elvish Realms</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hello Niece,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I am writing for all of the brothers, and my cousins today.  Congratulations on finishing basic training!  I have a feeling that the others will forget to mention that when they write. Enclosed, find your very late birthday present.  We wanted to make sure that you would have something of your family with you when you started your border patrol.  The Ambarussa forged the daggers for you.  They are weighted for throwing if you need to, and the hilts should be about the color of your hair.  Nimloth said that they can double as hair pins if you are at a formal event.  Cana sent a collapsible stave and said to use it on anyone who got cheeky and decided to be inappropriate.  Atya and I sent you a jewelry set.  We both have a sneaking suspicion that you are going to be a red head, so the set is silver mithril.  Yes, you are worth the expense and you are as beautiful as any of your sisters.  The circlet is based on a vine motif with a pearl as the focus point.  We based the rest of the set on the same idea.  The cuffs are part of a set, with the other pair going to your partner-after we approve of them naturally.  I know you are not a huge fan of necklaces, so that is in the matching set.  Nelya and Moryo worked on the sword with the hope it will serve you well.  Tyelko, Dior, and Nimloth worked on the bow and arrows with the instructions to go wild.  Good luck titta tinwë.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Uncle Telpe</em>
</p><p>The letter from her father’s foster family made her gasp.  She knew that the Fëanorians tended to make sure that Dad’s children had the best possible weapons when they were in active military service, but this was the first time that Uncle Telpe had worked on jewelry since her older sister, Arwen, came of age.  All of her siblings had a set made by one of the Fëanorians, and a matching set made for their future partners.  Uncle Telpe and Uncle Curvo were startlingly good at predicting what her sibling’s partners would like, and who they would be.</p><p>Calling Mírial over, she asked for help unpacking her two boxes.  Together, they unpacked the dresses first, with Mírial gushing over how pretty they were.  Estel gasped when she saw a gray dress with a cleavage-revealing neckline, three-quarter lace sleeves, and long, flowing skirts.</p><p>“What’s so important about this one?”</p><p>“It’s my sister Celwen’s dress.  She wore this all the time.”  Opening another package, she continued “This green one with the flowing sleeves is Arwen’s, and the beige with the high collar is Làstril’s.  The blue with the high neck and short sleeves is Elwen’s.  They look like they’ve been modified to fit me, which is odd seeing as they’re all at least a foot taller than me.  I’ve never seen this strapless one before.  It’s beautiful though.”</p><p>A note fell out of the folds of the dress that Estel had identified as Celwen’s.  Mítherial picked it up and looked at it before saying,</p><p>“I can’t read it.  It’s not in Common or Adûnic at least.”</p><p>“Let me see?  If you don’t recognize it, it’s probably in Quenya or Sindarin.”</p><p>Mítherial handed the parchment to Estel.  “It’s Mother’s handwriting.”</p><p>
  <em>My dearest daughter,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am so very proud of all that you’ve been able to accomplish in these few short weeks.  If Mítherial is there, which I’m sure she is, she is more than welcome in the Valley at any time, as are Quinn and Cody.  Your sisters have been working on these dresses for a very long time, dilthen gildin.  They wanted you to have something that reminded you of home while in Gondor.  They were made with magic and love being woven into every stich, dilthen melda, so they will grow with you.  The strapless dress that you don’t recognize is based on my coming-of-age dress.  The gown that I wore was fully white, instead of a gradient from white at the waist to a dark blue at the hem and bodice.  Your uncles Telpe and Curvo made your circlet and cuffs with this dress in mind.  The train is easy to modify into a simple Empire silhouette.  My little spark, I would like you to wear this at your coming-of-age ball. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Làstril and Belemer will be negotiating when you can come home to celebrate it when you are eighteen, along with this girl I have been hearing about.  Belemer has been ordered by both your Dad and your Papa to discuss you with both Mítherial and her Lord Father.  You can deny it all you want, but all of your line including your Dad, have known who they will marry as soon as they laid eyes on them.  It is part of Melian’s legacy to your line.  Your Dad knew that he would marry both me and your Papa as soon as we met.  It was lucky that your Daerada Maedhros was able to recognize the signs in your Dad.  El truly thought he was going </em>
  <em>mad</em>
  <em> before Maedhros and Maglor explained what they knew of Melian’s legacy.  This Mítherial is more than likely to be my new law-daughter.  Daughter, you have made me so proud.  It is not every trainee that can lead a company at fifteen.  There is one last surprise in the box.  We were not able to put your armor into it, but there is a leather, spandex, and Kevlar jumpsuit for you to wear underneath the armor that you were issued in Gondor.  It has been woven and worked by your Daernana Galadriel and your Daerada Celeborn, so it will be as warm or as cool as you need it to be, and it will help to hide you from the sight of your enemies.  May the Valar be with you on your journey, dilthen gildin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Amin mela ile,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mum</em>
</p><p>Estel blinked away the sudden tears forming in her eyes as she finished reading.  Mírial suddenly decided to hug her and give her a chaste kiss.</p><p>“They will be in your heart, love.  I know that those dresses will be safe here, even when we leave for Ithilien, and the weapons that your uncles forged will protect you so that we can come back.”</p><p>“And the other part?”</p><p>“I have been interested in you almost since I first laid eyes on you.  I can ask Denethor to take my place as next-in-line for the Stewardship.  Estel Ereiniel, will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?”</p><p>“It would be my genuine pleasure, Mítherial Ectheilioniel.”</p><p>The pair smiled at each other and continued about their day.</p><p>A few days later, the pair had gotten into a routine.  Estel would wake up first and put water on the stove to boil.  Mírial would wake up soon after and make breakfast while Estel would shower.  Estel would then change and clean up while Mírial showered.  The pair seemed to orbit around each other, always aware of where the other would be at any given point in time.  Estel had become a regular figure at the Steward’s Court, helping Mírial with paperwork and meetings.  The next step was usually patrolling the city for several hours.  The violence and unrest had not calmed down in Minas Tirith, on the contrary it had become more volatile.  There had been multiple riots in the past week.  All soldiers who were of Númenorian decent had been pulled up to the highest level of the city, where the unrest was least prevalent. </p><p>Combat Group Purple had been drafted into being bodyguards for the four VIPs that were coming to the White City by the end of the day.  They would be alternating with Combat Group Green, who graduated with them.  Purple would be taking the midnight to noon shift, with Combat Group Blue on standby if an emergency occurred.  Green would take the noon to midnight shift, with Combat Group Brown as their standby. </p><p>This coincidentally ensured that Estel and Mírial would be able to attend any evening meetings, while Estel’s biological cousins, Halbarad and Maelann of the Green would be able to attend any morning meetings.  Halbarad and Maelann were Estel’s unofficial heirs, as they had the next closest claim to the Gondorian and Arnorian Throne.  They were also unquestionably loyal to Estel, due to her protecting their family during a raid when they were away hunting.  Estel trusted them enough to take notes during meetings that she couldn’t attend, and she welcomed their advice and opinions. </p><p>Very few people were aware that Estel and Mítherial were dating.  Outside of their rooms, the couple were perfectly professional.  Cody and Quinn knew, and the Steward suspected, but beyond that it was not known.  That suited Estel and Mírial, both quite private people by nature, just fine. </p><p>The first sign that the VIPs were almost there was the final briefing that the four Combat Groups: Purple, Green, Blue, and Brown.  Purple would take the visitors from the airport, the weapons experts walking next to them, with the field medics and comms specialists as a mobile perimeter around the primaries.  The sharpshooters formed the outermost static perimeter.  Squad Alpha had field command, with each member leading their specialty.  Squad Charlie acted as their lieutenants, communicating with the leader of the operation, Ectheilion’s younger brother Forvendaer.  Alpha communicated with each other and their specialties.</p><p>Each squad used similar codenames.  The long form, for Estel was 3-Purple-Alpha 4.  Third Battalion, Combat Group Purple, Squad Alpha, sharpshooter.  Usually, she would use Alpha 4.  Mítherial, as a weapons and explosives expert answered to Alpha 1.  Cody, the comms specialist was Alpha 2 and Quinn, the field medic was Alpha 3.  It was a simple way of doing things, but the simpler things were the lower the chances of a mistake. </p><p>The briefings were fairly informal, the CGs all knew each other from training and guard duty, and Forvendaer had been the instructor that taught them the ins and outs of guard duty.  It normally would have been someone else, but that instructor had just had a baby, and was still on maternity leave.  Uncle Foven as Mírial called him in private, liked to stay in touch with the lower ranks, even as Commandant of the City Guard.  Most of the squads went to these briefings in their jumpsuits or civvies and would change after the briefings were complete.  Estel was no different, wearing the jumpsuit that her Andammë made for her, and her standard-issue boots.  She would already have her waist-length hair pinned up before she left, Mírial, Cody, or Quinn usually helping her as they talked. </p><p>After the briefing, the CGs would usually split into specialties or squads.  Purple tended to split into squads but continued to talk between each squad.  They would put on their armor and attach their weapons to their bodies.  Two pistols at the waist, assault rifle and sniper rifle at the shoulders, a shotgun and sword at the small of the back, and various small weapons, such as throwing knives, blow darts, daggers and explosives hidden in specially designed sheaths.  They would also carry an extra communicator, money, and ration pills in more obvious pockets.  The goal was to make the person wearing that armor look like they didn’t have any weapons.  For the most part, it was successful.  It was difficult to see any weapon beyond the assault rifle, and for the sharpshooters, their sniper rifles.  Some people, like Estel didn’t use standard equipment.  Estel carried the sword, stave, bow, and daggers that her Uncles made for her.  They were nigh-impossible to see.  The Fëanorians had made the blades to be a shade of matte black, rather than the usual shining metal.  Her stave and bow were collapsible, and her quiver of arrows by her right thigh could be secured to the small of her back in a pinch.  Estel’s armor was rugged but streamlined.  It was mainly a matte black, but there was a subtle purple stripe on the arms, and a rank insignia also in purple just below her left collarbone.  Her armor followed the same general pattern as the rest of her squad.</p><p> </p><p>At the Nimloth Airport, Purple was getting into position.  The Airport had been highly restricted in the area where the dignitaries were coming through.  Mítherial and her three subordinates were waiting at the gate, the four coming along side other elves that were traveling to Minas Tirith for various reasons.  Cody, Quinn and their subordinates were standing inconspicuously throughout the airport.  Estel and her subordinates were on the rooftops, securing the pathways to the Steward’s Keep.</p><p>The elves started to come through the gate, led by Làstril, Belemer, Maelas and Macalaurë.  Mítherial stepped towards the group. </p><p>“My lords, my lady, welcome to Minas Tirith.  My name is Mítherial Ectheilioniel.  Before you ask, Ana told me to tell you this. ‘Làstril, ni am teréva. Ni mel tye.’ She also said to say ‘Indóme tye ilya lare-yes? Yes na-mime vestale.’”</p><p>The group of elves laughed. “Of course she said that.  I see that a few weeks in the military is not nearly enough to curb her sass.” Làstril said. </p><p>Mítherial bowed and started the procession towards the Keep.  The elves murmured in Quenya-Mírial could recognize the difference after hearing Estel swear in both Quenya and Sindarin often enough-as they walked.  The walk passed without incident.  It was almost noon when the plane arrived, so there was a shift change shortly after the introductions and niceties were completed.  Ectheilion invited the elves to stay at the Keep, mentioning how his daughter and one of her squad mates, Ana, were also staying there.  The elves were very agreeable after hearing that.  The group asked to have time to gather themselves after a long flight.  Ectheilion smiled knowingly but agreed quickly.  He added that his daughter’s rooms were on the way to the guest rooms. </p><p>As soon as there were no prying eyes, the group rushed towards the rooms.  Estel ended up meeting them halfway, still in her jumpsuit with her hair pinned into a braided bun.  She ran towards the group and nearly crashed into Làstril’s arms, speaking rapidly in Quenya about how she had missed them, and she was glad she could see them before she had to ride to Ithilien. </p><p>The girl was obviously emotional, which was rare for her.  The only subject that could consistently force her to show her emotions was her loved ones.  The next few days passed quickly, with Estel spending as much time with her family as possible.  Belemer and Macalaurë did talk to Mítherial about something-Estel couldn’t get it out of her-and there was a formal contract made, with betrothal, engagement, and marriage possibilities laid out.  It was really a way to protect both girls and allowed them to progress at the rate they wanted to.  Arrangements were also made for Estel’s coming of age ceremony. Maglor was there as a senior member of her House, which gave him the authority to approve and enforce these contracts.  They would be considered valid and legally binding in the Elvish Realms.</p><p>By the time the elves were ready to leave, they had thoroughly embarrassed Estel, telling Mírial with stories of her childhood.  They had also ensured that Estel was aware that she would always be loved and would always have a place in Imladris, even if she decided to stay in the human realms for the rest of her life.  Estel felt ready to ride out to Ithilien and face the dangers that would likely be there.</p><p>Mírial was concerned about Ithilien, even if she didn’t mention it out loud.  Most of the Southerners were actually.  The border with Harad was always dangerous, even if hostilities were at an all-time low, at least within living memory.  They were still concerned, even after seeing the briefings.  Estel mentally shrugged.  Old habits die hard.  And it was always good to be cautious.  Paranoia kept people alive and alert to their surroundings.  She still had <em>opinions</em> about the ass that threw rotten fruit at her because she didn’t have her helmet on.  At least it wasn’t a rock, like Maelann had to deal with last week.</p><p>They were finishing up their preparations for their upcoming march to Ithilien.  There were <em>truly </em>obscene amounts of paperwork to do, requisitions to file, final briefings to prepare, and letters to send.</p><p>Squad Charlie was able to help with some of the paperwork, but most of it was something that Alpha had to fill out themselves and sign.  As a result, the past week had been frenetically busy. </p><p>The command squad, as they were being called, had been given the past three days off from patrol, as it would be impossible to finish all of the required minutiae that was needed for the march.  They had set up shop in Mítherial’s office in the Steward’s Keep.  Estel and Mítherial had been spending the time working on the forms and requisitions, while Cody and Quinn were working on the briefings and research to ensure that they were requesting the correct items. The group would be patrolling by horseback, so all the required saddles, bridles, brushes, and bags had to be ordered for every member.  It was unlikely that there would be anywhere friendly for the group to restock their supplies.  A knock on the door of their shared office caught their attention. </p><p>“Lieutenant Ana, Lieutenant Mítherial, Lieutenant Cody, Lieutenant Quinn, you are being summoned by the Steward for a final briefing.”</p><p>The four started to put their files in their safe, “We’ll be there momentarily after we secure our files. He’s in his office?” Estel asked.  The aide nodded and left to inform the Steward of the delay.  The group were in their jumpsuits, so it was child’s play to put on their armor over them quickly and make their way towards the Steward’s office.  Cody was the one to knock on the door</p><p>“Sir?  Second Lieutenants Cody, Ana, Mítherial, and Quinn reporting as ordered.”</p><p>“Come in Lieutenants.  Thank you for being so prompt. Please close the door.  I’m unsure if you know everyone in the room, so I’ll introduce them to you.  The General of the Navy, Adrahil is on my right.  The General of the Army, Dínathor is on my left.  You know the Captain of the Guard, Forvendaer.  Gentlemen, this is Squad Alpha of CG Purple.  They are currently under Army Command because of the unrest in the city.  Alpha, you are here for an unofficial mission briefing.  As you know, you are being asked to patrol Ithilien.  We would also like you to go across the border, into Harad to gather information within the first three years of your deployment.  You can handle it any way you choose but remember that we will deny all knowledge if you are caught.”</p><p>Quinn asked, “Are we simply gathering information, or do you have any further instructions or suggestions for us?”  He knew that plausible deniability was necessary in order to succeed in politics, but it could be a pain-among other descriptors-to deal with as a soldier.</p><p>“We want you to look for anything suspicious and follow any leads.  You have unofficial permission to go anywhere you need to.  We have been hearing rumors about Mordor starting to mobilize, and we can’t get anyone near enough to check.  Estel-nin, -yes na-ve Angbad ar Utummo ter-I minya randa.”  Maedhros Fëanorian stepped out of the shadows.  Estel bowed her head in recognition.</p><p>“I understand, my lord Nelyafinwë.” She replied to her grandfather. </p><p>The briefing was finished quickly after that, with Estel staying behind for a moment to speak privately with her grandfather.</p><p>“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, Andatar.”</p><p>“I needed to see you before you left.  Artanis mentioned you had a bad feeling about this?”</p><p>“I hope I’m wrong, but I’ve been hearing quiet rumors about no one having any contact with Ithilien for the past several months.”  Estel’s expression was fearful, her eyes dark with helplessness.  “I want to be wrong, but I don’t think I’ll be in contact for a long time Andatar.  It feels like this is the beginning of a FUBAR mission with no back-up or guarantees.”</p><p>Maedhros pulled his youngest granddaughter into his arms, hoping to comfort her-and himself, not that he would admit it in public. “You know I can’t promise you anything, titta tinwë.  More importantly, I wouldn’t want to fill you with false hope.  But I have a feeling that everything will end well.  You have your father’s gift of foresight.  It truly isn’t a surprise.  You have enough elvish blood to be close to half-elven, if not more.  You have the skills and the knowledge to survive just about anything that is thrown your way, we made sure of that.  I have every faith in you.”</p><p>“Thank you, Andatar.  I think I needed to hear that.  Can you do me a favor?”</p><p>“Depends what it is, little troublemaker.  You are entirely too much like your father for me to agree to that unconditionally.”</p><p>“Can you deliver this for me?  This is meant for the Noldoran.  I would rather not have my mail read if at all possible.  There are details in here that shouldn’t be put in the wrong hands.”</p><p>“Estel” Maedhros’ voice was disapproving.</p><p>“No Andatar.  This is both for my family and my King.  You know that I was commissioned to give intelligence to Papa on what I could find out.  This has my reports and what, exactly, my mission is.  Mírial is aware of my commission, and she full heartedly approves.  Unofficially, she and her father are providing information as well.”  Estel’s voice wavered here “Tell everyone I love them.”</p><p>“I will.”  Estel handed Maedhros the envelope and both walked into the shadows. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>To the High King of the Noldor on Arda, in the Elvish Haven of the Hidden Valley</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From Operative Daelas in the city of Minas Tirith in Gondor of the Realms of Man</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Regarding the Keep</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Your Majesty and the High Council,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I have managed to recruit two informants that are rather high in the chain of command.  Lira is directly under my command and has noble heritage-her mother is descended from the Nandor if I’m any judge.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For my ‘safety,’ my name has been changed to a non-elvish derivative.  I’m of the opinion that they’re trying to erase what is left of my people’s culture.  There are very few people with Quenya or Sindarin derived names.  The Steward’s direct family and the Dol Amroth Princes are the only openly elvish derived names that I’ve heard.  The names are simply due to tradition, and there has been pressure from the nobles to use Bree, Dale and Rohirric naming conventions instead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Any child who has curly hair is scorned by their schoolmates, and their teachers will purposely instruct those children to a lower standard then their straight-haired peers.  Those children will be given worse assignments and worse training once they are under the draft laws.  Mothers will openly smother their children that are born with curly hair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There have been large amounts of unrest in the city.  Any draftee of Númenorian descent is kept from the lower levels of the city.  Again, “for their safety.”  Forgive the obscenity, but this is such bullshit!  Northerners are paid less, and once they are out of the city, no longer have the protection of the Steward-what little that means. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was assigned to a border patrol in Ithilien.  There has been no contact from any patrol in the past year, and part of my orders are to hop the border into Harad.  With some of the people that are in the CG, you would think that Command would be hesitant to assign a suicide mission.  The Steward is essentially taking advantage of the opportunity that having people that he trusts in the field affords him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Reports from here on out will be spotty at best.  I will do my best, but don’t expect much without me paying bribes to get back to the city.  Corruption is prevalent, but not as bad as it could be.  Bribes are not happening on the streets in the middle of the day, but I have been asked to pay bribes by influential officials in front of witnesses.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have procured another informant, Palime-ore, who will be sending regular reports of the goings on of the City.  I would rather not have to kill this one, so please be nice?  He’s rather highly placed, and I respect his efforts to encourage change. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hopefully, there will be more details on what I have been able to see when I get back.  I’ve destroyed my cipher, but it is nigh impossible to find anyone who understands any form of Elvish, Quenya, Sindarin or otherwise.  From here on out, Palime-ore will be your main point of contact in the city.  With luck, I will be in contact at some point within the year, but I am not hopeful.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Respectfully,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Daelas</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I have enclosed letters to be delivered in the case of my death.  I’d appreciate it if they would be delivered if that occurs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>E.T.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>When Estel walked into their office, Cody was the first to ask, “What was that?”</p><p>“He’s my grandfather and wanted to make sure I was all right before we ride.  That is Fëanáro Finwion’s eldest son.  You probably know him by the name of Maedhros.” </p><p>“Maedhros Fëanorian had no children, Ana.” Mírial stated.</p><p>“He and his younger brothers fostered my father, Elrond, and my many times great-grandfather, Elros after the Sack of Sirion in the First Age.”</p><p>The three humans were surprised that Estel was talking about her family in any sort of detail.</p><p>“Have you read the histories of the First Age? The Silmarillion? The Children of Húrin?  The details are in there.  <em>Anyway</em>, are we ready to ride?”</p><p>“On my end, at least, we are.  I have made certain that all of our medics have a full stock of supplies.  All of our certifications are recorded, and Headquarters has authorized us making field decisions.  I might need people to carry extra supplies, there’s simply too much for the four of us to carry.  Honestly it might be a good idea anyway, in case an emergency happens.”</p><p>“Comms and IT are ready as well.  I’m waiting for confirmation that we will have 16 horses.  I know that we have 10 right now, but I don’t have 6 fully firmed up.”</p><p>“Weapons and demolitions are all set.  We have checked everyone’s kit, and we have extra explosives and the means to improvise more.  Paperwork on my end is completely filled out.”</p><p>“Good.  We’re all set with sharpshooters.  Quinn, we can carry supplies for you if its needed.  Cody, can you and Mírial try to bug Requisitions?  We leave tomorrow at first light if nothing else comes up.”</p><p>The four splits up, Cody and Mítherial gathering the horses, Quinn and Estel making sure that everyone would get a decent meal and a good night’s sleep before shipping out in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>It was the gray hour before the sun truly began to rise when Mítherial woke.  She gently kissed the woman that shared her bed and was the one to prepare breakfast for once.  When Ana didn’t wake within a few minutes, Mírial grew concerned and went to check on her.  She walked into the room, only to find a tall, shadowy figure trying to slit Ana’s throat.  Mírial’s body reacted instinctively, throwing the kitchen knife that was in her hand and jumping to grapple with the intruder.  <em>Ana didn’t stir in the commotion</em> Mírial noted in the back of her mind.  She had to end this quickly.  There! Mírial caught sight of Ana’s new daggers, grabbed one and managed to slice the assassin’s throat.  Once she subdued her attacker, she pressed her panic button and started to check Ana.  Guards came running into the room, only to stop short when they caught sight of the attacker.  It happened to be that CG Green was on Keep duty that day.  Halbarad and Maelann were among the first to respond.</p><p>“Where’s your kit Alpha 1?” Halbarad barked.</p><p>It was what Mítherial needed to snap into the proper mindset.  She went into Ana’s pack and grabbed her med kit.  Ana was the back-up medic for their squad, she came in with a lot of knowledge.</p><p>“Here.  She hasn’t stirred once.  Normal breathing, but general unawareness.  She was completely aware last night when we went to sleep.” Mírial said, trying to be as helpful as possible.</p><p>“Maelann, call Uncle Ereinion.  Tell him that there was an assassination attempt.  Mítherial, find your father and”</p><p>Ectheilion came running into the room “What happened Mítherial?”</p><p>“Assassination attempt on Ana, Dad.  Halbarad, I’ll inform Alpha 2 and 3.  Take care of my partner.”</p><p>“You don’t have to ask, milady.  Be safe.  Maelann, ordinance 2.”</p><p>Mítherial and Maelann walked out of the room quickly.  Before Mírial could ask any questions, Maelann was on the comm, saying in Sindarin</p><p>“I need back up.  Attempt on Firebird.  I have Songbird with me.”</p><p>A Northern-accented voice replied “Copy that.  Thorn bush and Mallorn are on route.  Who is with Firebird?”</p><p>“Thunder.  Firebird was unresponsive when I left.  Thornbush go directly to the Keep.  Mallorn, I want you with me.  I need a secure line to the Valley.  If not there, then the Golden Wood.”</p><p>“Copy that Lightning.  Rendezvous at the shop?”</p><p>“Yes.  Everyone else, I’ll update you as necessary.  Lightning out.”</p><p>Once Maelann was done, Mítherial was on the comm “CG Purple, there has been a change in plans.  Alpha 4 is hibernating.  Alpha 2, Alpha 3, assume command.  Details to follow.”</p><p>“Alpha 2 here, copy”</p><p>“Beta 3 here, copy”</p><p>“Charlie 4 here, copy.  Alpha 1, we’re sending Charlie 2 to you.  Charlie 3 is on route to Alpha 2 and 3.  Charlie 1 is going to Alpha 4.”</p><p>“Delta 1 here, we copy. Beta, we’re coming to you.”</p><p>“Beta 3 here, copy that Delta.  We’re expecting you.”</p><p>“Alpha 1, this is CG Purple.  We copy.”</p><p>“Alpha 1, out.”</p><p>Charlie 2, a pretty Dale native named Freya was soon in sight, running to Mírial and stopping a step behind on her right.  She didn’t ask any questions once she saw Mírial’s face.  It was not the time.</p><p>Maelann stopped them at a cobbler’s shop.  “Ana asked me to watch over you if she was ever incapacitated.  I know you know a bit of her background.  We’re going to be calling her father.”</p><p>The trio entered the shop, a bell jingling merrily as the door opened.  The man behind the counter had short hair, like a Bree-lander or Gondorian, but there was something in his eyes that told Mírial that this was one of the legendary Rangers of the North.  The fact that he greeted Maelann in Sindarin confirmed her suspicions.</p><p>“They’re waiting for you in the back, Mae.  Be discreet please.  I don’t want to be found out if at all possible.  We still need people here that don’t respond directly to the King.”</p><p>“She will always follow her duty, Bôrdir.  If it comes between her family and her people, she will choose us.  Not that she’ll want to, but she knows her duty.”</p><p><em>I seriously need to learn Sindarin and Quenya</em>.  Mítherial made a mental note to ask Ana if she would teach her.  She followed Maelann to the back of the shop, where there was a state-of-the-art communication array.  Maelann looked at the definitely Northern boy and said-in common much to Mírial and Freya’s relief- “Is everything ready, Mallorn?”</p><p>“Yes ma’am.  The tech on the other side-I believe his name is Glirdir-has the Noldoran on standby.”</p><p>“Elf?”</p><p>“Yes.  Speaks Common fluently enough, though.  Audiovisual or just audio?”</p><p>“Both please.  I’d rather use fewer words.”</p><p>“Connecting you now.”</p><p>Three elves were standing in view of the comms. One male had dark hair, and the other had golden hair, and the female had silver-gold hair.  Maelann was about to open her mouth when Mítherial started.  “Your Majesties, I am Mítherial.  There was an assassination attempt this morning.  Estel was unharmed, but we can’t wake her.  I have a member of our CG guarding her, my father the Lord Steward is present, and there are two Northerners there as well.”</p><p>“Who are the Northerners, Lightning?” asked the female.</p><p>Maelann bowed before saying “Firebird is being watched by Thunder and Thorn bush on our end.  I believe that you said 3-Purple-Charlie 1 was in route, Mítherial?”</p><p>“Yes.  We were supposed to ride for Ithilien today, so we were able to respond quickly.”</p><p>“And the assassin?” one of the males asked</p><p>“Dead, my lord.  Very much so.”</p><p>“Your kill?”</p><p>“I don’t like it when people try to kill the woman I love.”</p><p>“Have you tried <em>athelas</em>?  That usually will work if it’s crushed into water and put near her.”  That must be Lord Elrond, Mítherial decided.  His healing abilities were renowned even here in Gondor.</p><p>“I’m sorry, my lord.  Athelas?”</p><p>“Kingsfoil.  It works as a panacea.”</p><p>Mítherial’s eyes flashed golden, “I’ve just informed Charlie 1.  He’s confirmed that Thunder?” Here she glanced at Maelann to confirm the name.  Maelann nodded “Is using kingsfoil.  Estel is responding well to treatment and is waking up.”  Mírial suddenly grinned</p><p>“She just vomited on Thunder.  It was probably general anesthesia.  She mentioned something about a bad reaction?”</p><p>“So, this is to inform us of the issue and to confirm that she is well?” Lord Elrond asked.</p><p>Mítherial shook her head “If I need to worry about my girlfriend being murdered, I would like to know exactly why the <em>hell</em> no one said anything sooner.  We are going to be in hostile territory for an unspecified amount of time with no chance of back-up.”  Mírial glanced away for a moment “I can’t lose anyone else.  Not like this.  I’ve lost my little sister and my mother to the Enemy.  Never again.”  Her expression was fierce. “So, I’ll repeat my question, why was no one informed as to this possibility?”</p><p>“She wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible.  Anonymity was her best option for achieving that goal.  She said that she was taking the proper precautions, and the other Rangers agreed to keep an eye out.  Could this be an attempt because of her association with you?” the Noldoran queried.</p><p>“The assassin wasn’t interested in me.  They waited until I was out of the room to strike, and once I entered, made no aggressive moves towards me until I attacked them to defend Ana.”</p><p>“Can your march be delayed by a few hours?  I would like to speak with her after this incident.” Ereinion requested.</p><p>Mítherial closed her eyes for a moment in concentration,</p><p>“I think that can be arranged.  I ceded command to Alpha 2 and 3 once it became obvious that Estel was incapacitated.”</p><p>Freya-Charlie 2 spoke up “Freya, Your Majesties.  I just spoke with Alpha 2.  He confirmed that we will be delaying our march by a few hours, at minimum in order to confirm that Estel is at maximum capacity, and to confirm that Mítherial’s kill was legal and in self-defense.  The Steward simply needs to speak with the civilian council for this one.”</p><p>“Thank you, Freya.” Mítherial smiled at the girl.  “Is that satisfactory for you, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“I will be there within an hour.  Don’t tell Estel I’m coming.”</p><p>“I won’t.  Someone will be at the airport waiting for you.”</p><p>“Until then, Mítherial.”</p><p>Mítherial bobbed a curtsey and left the room, Freya following her.</p><p>“Maelann, that is Songbird?”  Celebrían asked</p><p>“Yes, Majesty.  She and Firebird are well-matched.  They already act like they’ve known each other for years.  It’s <em>quite </em>sickening to have to watch.  They’re very professional outside of their rooms, though.  Her father and their CG are the only ones who know that they are dating.  Their DI-Sergeant Yasmin <em>bint</em> Umbar-noted how compatible they were.  It was never officially reported or written down, only a verbal conversation between the Steward and the Sergeant.  She will be a good Consort for Her Highness.”</p><p>“Make sure they aren’t killed while they’re in the city.” Ereinion ordered</p><p>“Yes, Majesty.”</p><p>The line cut, and the pair rushed out to quietly guard the unofficial Princess-Consort.</p><p> </p><p>A knock on the door in the middle of the night was usually a bad thing.  A knock on the door in the middle of the night if you are a king could have consequences that reverberate through the world.  A knock on the door when your youngest is far away is probably the most terrifying prospect in the world, even more than a battlefield.  Celebrían Celeborniel was worried when there was a quiet knock on their door.  Artanáro had been the one to answer the door while Celebrían and Elrond dressed in simple attire.  Artanáro came back into their bedchamber with a grim look on his face “It’s Estel.  There has been an attempt on her life while she slept.  Can you call your parents?  We need to discuss what we can do, and how this will affect the treaty.”</p><p>Celebrían was already moving while Artanáro dressed.  “I’ll call Nana, if she doesn’t already know.  We’ll tell the children after we have more information and a plan.”</p><p>“I’ll do the same with Atarinyat.  There is no need to worry the kids yet.” Elrond added.</p><p>“I’ll be able to deal with whoever is on duty in Minas Tirith, then I’ll come find you.” Ereinion said.  Plans made, the triad went their separate ways, projecting a confidence they did not feel.  Their emotions could wait until later, when they had time to worry.  Their parents may not like it, but it was the only way to deal with things as a ruler first and then as a parent.</p><p>All three entered the communications network together.  CG Gray was on guard duty, which meant that-</p><p>“CG Gray is dismissed for now.  There is a sensitive matter that has arisen.  Please retrieve your elven counterparts.” Artanáro’s voice was even, confident.  You wouldn’t be able to tell that his daughter had nearly been assassinated unless you knew him and could see the worry glimmering in his eyes.  Glorfindel was one of those people, having served as his Guard Captain since the middle of the Second Age.  Once the room was clear of humans, Ereinion spoke again. “There was an assassination attempt on Estel this morning.  We need links to Minas Tirith, Himring, and Lothlórien.”</p><p>Glirdir spoke first “Majesty, I have the link for the White city on standby.” The Noldoran nodded and followed him.  Glirdir had been the one who received the alert.</p><p>Celeblassiel, a pretty silver haired Sinda originally from the Golden Wood spoke next “I can set up the link for Lothlórien, my lady.” Celebrían nodded and followed the elleth.</p><p>Finally, a dark-haired Noldo, Glavrolben, said “My lord, I have Himring on hold.”  Elrond followed the ellon to a private room.</p><p>Ereinion was getting details from Minas Tirith from Mallorn of the Dúnedain and stepped out of the room to find Celebrían and Elrond.  They had to discuss the details with the family.  The comms specialists quickly managed to link the three separate lines, so all of the elves could hear what was said, but the only ones that would been seen or heard in Minas Tirith would be the three monarchs of the Valley.</p><p>After the conversation with Mítherial was completed, the family spoke together.  Galadriel smiled “Mítherial Is a good match for our Estel.  She’s just as protective, if not more so as our little spark.”</p><p>“Have you read Daelas’ report?  She is fairly certain that Mítherial is descended from the Nandor.  It would make sense.  I know they tend to stay in the South.”  Nimloth offered.  She was an anthropologist by training, studying cultures and languages, even if she could defend herself with blade and bow.</p><p>“Back to the main discussion, what are we going to do with Estel?  I would easily put It alongside Telpe’s role in the Annatar Incident.” Curufin was irritated with his great niece. “She should have taken precautions for the possibility of an attempt.  I would call that willful endangerment.”</p><p>“Atya, she’s fine now, just sleeping off the drug.  She was trying to keep a low profile, so precautions like that would have been noted.” Telpe defended.  He remembered how much he <em>hated</em> being in Himring at first. </p><p>“She did write about a bad feeling.  I would send someone-or multiple someones to go with her.” Glorfindel said.  He was always cautious when it came to people’s lives, especially Estel.  She was probably one of his favorite students, but he was always reminded of her mortality after events like this.</p><p>“I would suggest Arwen, Elwen, and both sets of twins.  She is rather prone to attracting trouble.” Celeborn suggested. </p><p>Telpe shook his head “She is going on a border patrol in Ithilien.  The last thing she needs is the kind of attention that would bring.” Quickly glancing at his twin uncles to see them nod, “if anyone, I would suggest the elder twins.  They are formidable warriors in their own right but are less remembered than their elder brothers.”</p><p>Elrond nodded, “I would be more comfortable with that then with the twins and the girls.  Uncles?  Would you be willing?”</p><p>Amras and Amrod shared a quick glance before looking at Maedhros. After he nodded, Amrod spoke, “We would be willing to go with her.  She’ll be riding, not driving one of those Valar damned mechanical menaces, correct?”</p><p>“I believe so.  She hinted as much in both her letter and her report.”</p><p>“We’ll be happy to then.  Is Isilëo in your stables?”</p><p>“Yes.  I’ll bring him with me on the plane.”  Artanáro spoke up.  “I would rather she have a mount she was familiar with, and well-trained than have to familiarize herself with during her patrol.”</p><p>“We’ll fly from Himring with Queillënár and Rasilmë.”</p><p>“What about the Steward?  It is his lands.”  Mátimo queried.</p><p>“We discussed the possibility when I was there with Làstril, Belemer, and Maelas.  He has already agreed to her having escorts if we deemed it necessary.” Macalaurë commented.</p><p>“Then we are agreed? Estel will be escorted by the Ambarussa and we will use this incident as a way to leverage the Steward?” Celebrían confirmed.  She and her father, Celeborn were the only two in this group who weren’t fluent Quenya speakers.</p><p>After a round of yeses, the group ended the conference.  Artanáro left for Minas Tirith, and Celebrían and Elrond were left trying to figure out a way to Inform their children of what had happened.  Elwen, Arwen, and the twins were still in the Valley to patrol the area.  Làstril was there to finish working on the treaty she and Macalaurë had negotiated.  It would be a fun few hours.</p><p>A half an hour later, the Elven King was in the city.  He was dressed informally by Noldorin standards and was met by Cody <em>ibn</em> Gondor on the tarmac.  “You’re Ana’s father, right?”</p><p>“Yes.  How is she doing?”</p><p>“Shaken.  Incredibly irritated that she can’t seem to get away from courtly intrigue even when she isn’t acting officially.”</p><p>Ereinion sighed.  “I wish I could say I was surprised by this being a possibility.  Can you take me to her?”</p><p>“Of course, sir.  Please follow me.  We’re going to be keeping a closer watch on her now that we’ve been clued in.”</p><p>“Thank you.  She’s still my little girl, so it is always difficult to let her go.”</p><p>“She would still be considered an infant if she was an elfling, right?”</p><p>“Yes, a young one at that.  She has a lot of Elvish blood in her, so much so that if she had been born to even one Elvish parent, she would have been given the choice.  The Valar will be unlikely to give anyone of Númenorian descent a chance.  They have long memories and hold grudges against those who anger them.”</p><p>The pair walked quickly as they spoke.  The deserted streets allowed the pair quick access to the Steward’s Keep.</p><p>Once they were at Mírial’s rooms, Ereinion quietly asked everyone to leave.  Mírial was the last to leave, and she took Ana’s pack before closing the door behind her.</p><p>“Estel?” Ereinion asked quietly</p><p>“I’m here Atya.”  She was sitting on the couch in Mírial’s parlor, her complexion pale with a slight green tinge.</p><p>“You are lucky you aren’t dead, daughter.  I don’t like being woken to the news that my youngest daughter, my <em>baby</em>, was nearly killed due to her stubbornness and carelessness.  I hope you have a good explanation as to why you weren’t taking proper precautions.  I also hope that you know that you made a mistake, a reckless decision that is more akin to something that the twins would do when they were young than to my cautious daughter.  What were you <em>thinking</em> Estel?”</p><p>Estel was shamefaced and slightly embarrassed when she said, “I got careless.  We were supposed to ship out early this morning, so I had packed up all my equipment.  Atya, I know I made a stupid mistake and it nearly cost me both my life and my Mírial’s life.  If she hadn’t thought to check on me, or if we hadn’t been ready to go, I would be dead.”</p><p>“Yes, you would have been.  You are so lucky titta tinwë.  I believe you know what happens next?”</p><p>Estel looked at the floor, feeling all of 6 years old again.</p><p>“What is your decision Atya?”</p><p>“You will be spending time with your Dad working in the healing wing when you are done here.  You will also be on a very tight leash until further notice.  The Ambarussa will be traveling with your company.”</p><p>“Atya!”</p><p>“No, Estel.  You scared all of us today.  Telperinquar was the only member of our immediate extended family who protested against this, as he had to deal with the same thing after the Annatar disaster.”</p><p>“You <em>called</em> them?  Atya, you can’t be serious!  How am I supposed to be able to command when I’m being assigned <em>baby-sitters</em>?  I understand that you were scared by this, but <em>it is my job!</em>”</p><p>“Celeborn wanted to send Elwen, Arwen, the twins, <em>and</em> the Ambarussa, so count yourself lucky that you only have two minders.  I will not hear any argument.  Not when it comes to your safety.  You are my youngest child, and for that alone you would be hunted, never mind your ancestry!  I will <em>always</em> have a say when it comes to your safety.  Little one, do not ask me to let you go before I have to.” The Noldoran’s face was pained at the thought.  “Now as to today’s misdeed.  Come here, Estel.”</p><p>Estel’s face was incredulous.  A <em>spanking</em>?  She knew that she would always be considered a child in comparison to her siblings, even when she was old and gray, but she had managed to avoid this for at <em>least</em> two years.  She moved forward reluctantly until Ereinion wrapped an arm around her waist, took her over his knee and gave her a sound tanning.  “Don’t be so careless with your life Estel.  You are the hope of both our family and your people.  You can change the world, but you can’t do that alone and you can’t make foolish mistakes.  Do you understand titta tinwë?”</p><p>“Yes Atya.” Estel grimaced at her voice.  She sounded far younger than her age, and far too uncertain for her taste.  Her Papa hugged her and kissed her on the forehead before saying “Get dressed little one.  You have to move out soon.”</p><p>“Atya?”</p><p>“Yes, little one?”</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too, daughter.  Be safe and be good for your Uncles.”</p><p>“Yes sir.”  Estel quickly pulled her hair up and put on her armor.  Ereinion Gil-Galad, the Noldoran looked at his daughter proudly as she took one last deep breath and took command.  “CG Purple, Alpha 4 here.  Be ready to move out in 10 minutes at the gates.  Squad Alpha, I expect you there ASAP.”</p><p>“Alpha 4, Charlie 1.  Glad to have you back ma’am.  We copy.” Alan</p><p>“Alpha 4, Beta 3.  We copy” Hilde</p><p>“Alpha 4, Delta 1, we copy” Zoey</p><p>“Alpha 4, Alpha 2, we copy.” Cody</p><p>“Alpha 4, out.” Estel</p><p>Estel quickly walked towards the city gates, trusting Mírial to have her pack and horse waiting for her.  Two copper-red haired armored ellyn were waiting at the Keep’s door. “Uncle Amras, Uncle Amrod, it’s good to see you.  Ready to go?”</p><p>The elder twin, Amras nodded, “I think we are, <em>Russa,</em> yes.”  The Ambarussa were the only ones to call her “Copper.”  They wouldn’t explain <em>why</em> either, which drove Estel <em>mad.</em>  She was curious, and her uncles would simply smile and say, “You’ll understand when you’re older pitya.”  The others were no help, the older Fëanorians would simply smile and Uncle Telpe, Uncle Erestor, and Uncle Lindir were as clueless as she was.  “Let’s head out then.”  Estel led the way to the city gates, her uncles following behind.  She could feel their disapproving looks boring holes through the back of her head.  Eventually, she got tired of it and snapped “If you’re going to say something, say it.  Otherwise keep the hostility to yourselves until we’re in private.”</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> in a good mood.” Amrod this time.  “We just wish you would be more careful, little one.  You <em>aren’t</em> invulnerable and making careless mistakes won’t help your life expectancy.  I already lost my wife and child to my cockiness and arrogance.  Do not ask me to lose my great-niece as well.  You forced us to realize that time is a precious commodity and we had to become more invested in the Realms of Men after we conquered them.  It would be devastating to us if we lost you.  Telpe disagreed with this particular punishment because we forced him to move back home to Himring from Ost-in-Edhil after Nelya recognized Annatar for who he was.  I’m fairly certain he went over all of our knees at least once before Curvo and Nelya allowed him to go back to the refugees.  Even then, Curvo, Amras, and I went with him.  It was quite some time before he was trusted to be alone again.”</p><p>“We don’t want to lose you either Estel.  We’re doing this because we care.  If we didn’t, we wouldn’t have reacted to the attempt in any way.”</p><p>“So, stop being a brat and let us smother you for a while.  Nelya mentioned that you had a bad feeling about this, so consider us to be extra back-up.”</p><p>“I’ll do my best, Uncles Ambarussa, but I can make no promises.”</p><p>The group reached the gates, where Mírial, Cody and Quinn were waiting.  Mírial had an extra pack and all three were leading two horses.  Estel recognized three immediately.  The roan mare was Amrod’s, Queillënár (Q-Fading Fire). The white stallion was Amras’, Rasilmë (Q-Storm light). The gray stallion was her own Isilëo (Q-Moonshadow).  “How?  I was fully expecting to have to borrow one from the stables.”</p><p>“We weren’t going to borrow horses that we would have to bond with when there are perfectly good horses that we had in the stables who we knew perfectly well, and they know us, and we can trust their training.  Isilëo is irritated with you for even considering riding another horse.  He’s rather possessive, isn’t he?” Amras joked as he walked over to his stallion.</p><p>“Thank you, Uncle.  I can’t easily express how much this means”</p><p>“You have something of your home with you, even after we leave.”  Amrod was understanding.</p><p>The two ellyn mounted and rode out from the gates to give the four some privacy.</p><p>Mírial immediately opened the extra pack and started to help her attach weapons to her armor.  Soon enough, all that was left in the pack was the extra clothes that she brought.  Mírial, with a twinkle in her eye, showed Estel a hidden pouch in her armor where she could hide her extra clothes.  It was waterproof, and next to her skin, so it would stay warm and dry, no matter the circumstances.</p><p>“I’m sorry.  I should have paid more attention.”</p><p>“You should have let us in, so we could <em>help</em>!” Estel winced, Mírial was angry.</p><p>Cody nodded “She’s not wrong Ana.  We protect our own, you <em>know</em> that.”  His tone was calm, which was a relief.  He was hard to anger and ever harder to earn forgiveness from.</p><p>“And if we had known, we would have been more cautious.  I for one, fully agree with your father’s decision to send your uncles with us.  Were you not the one who said you had a bad feeling about this?” Quinn, always the healer was attempting to soothe the group into realizing that this was the best way forward for all concerned parties.</p><p>“I know, Quinn.  It just feels like he doesn’t trust me.  I know it’s not the real reason, but that’s how it feels.”</p><p>The sound of low voices and hoof beats interrupted their conversation.  Estel’s look clearly expressed that they would talk later, after they had some privacy.  The four mounted up and waited for the rest to meet them.  The new additions raised some curious eyebrows hidden behind helmets, but nothing was said.</p><p>“Hello everyone.  Ready to go?”</p><p>“Beta reporting ready”</p><p>“Charlie reporting ready”</p><p>“Delta reporting ready”</p><p>Estel nodded and led the group out of the gates.  She, technically, had senior command over the CG.  Alpha were officially second lieutenants, Charlie were Sergeants, Beta and Delta-corporals. Unofficially, they didn’t follow the typical conventions or chain of command.  All members could take command in their area of expertise.  Overall, though, the CG looked to Alpha to deal with disputes and paperwork.</p><p>The group rode out in a loose formation, Estel and her uncles in front, Mírial, Quinn, and Cody flanking them.  Delta created an outer perimeter, Beta acting as go-betweens and Charlie forming an inner perimeter.</p><p>“You created a good formation.  It’s balanced between the need to travel quickly and defensive countermeasures.  Whose idea was it? It feels familiar somehow.” Amras commented.</p><p>“Look closer, Uncle.  Imagine the formation with fewer riders.”</p><p>A startled gasp as Amrod realized “This is based on one of our tactics.  Estel?”</p><p>“I fully blame Mírial for this one.  I was talking about some of the stories you’ve told me, and she suggested we use some of the tactics and ideas.”</p><p>Mírial chimed in from her black stallion, Noblefire.  “From there, we simply drew up how it would look with double the riders.   God and Goddess willing, it will keep us alive until we can draw weapons.”</p><p>Estel nodded.  The Valar weren’t known here.  She was still learning the names of these gods-not that they were ever said out loud.  Names had power; it was said.  One of the leftovers from the Eldar legends, where your word was your bond-look at the Oath of Fëanáro.  The rest of the journey was fairly quiet, with quiet conversations happening throughout the group.  The squads switched positions every three hours.  Alpha went to the outer perimeter, Charlie became the center, Beta the messengers and Delta the inner perimeter.  They rode out for hours until they were about halfway between Minas Tirith and Ithilien before stopping for the night.</p><p>Delta offered to take first watch, with Rhys, her fellow Dúnadan, saying that her squad needed to talk together.  Estel nodded gratefully before ordering them to switch with Alpha in a few hours.</p><p>Mírial, Cody, and Quinn were waiting for her, having set up their tent while Estel was talking to Rhys. </p><p>“Ana, we need to know what else happened and what else could happen if you are recognized.” Cody was worried about her, she realized.</p><p>“It will be hard for anyone outside of the Elvish Realms to recognize me.  I hadn’t been in a human settlement from the time I was 6 months old to the time I was 13.  I am unsure what this was about.  Yes, I am my father’s daughter, but I have not made that well known, and the surname I use is not specific.”</p><p>“I get that it was unexpected for an attempt on your life Ana, but is it not likely if not expected that someone would have found out about your family connections?”  Quinn, this time.</p><p>“Not even all of the Northerners-none of the Bree-landers- know who I am.  The Dúnedain who are here know who I am, but that is simply because of my time with them.  I would think that the attempt would be more likely to come from one of the Steward’s enemies than from anything to do with me personally.”</p><p>“Are you certain?” Mírial</p><p>“No, which is why I’m being cautious. It is unlikely at best that I am the direct reason behind this one at least.”</p><p>“Fine.  I’m still irritated with you, but that’s because you scared the life out of me.  I would rather not lose you.”</p><p>“I know Mírial.  I truly am sorry guys.”</p><p>“We know you are.  Please don’t scare us like that again.” Quinn pleaded.</p><p>“I will do my best.” Estel promised.</p><p>The night was long, especially with having watch shifts to handle.  Eventually though, the dawn came, as it always did, and the group eventually reached the Ithilien-Harad border.  The hard work would begin now.  But what was easier, Estel mused, politics and prejudice or patrol.  At least with patrol there was a clear plan of action and standard operating procedures.  She <em>wished</em> politics and the complete shitshow that was going to be Minas Tirith once the racism finally exploded was that clear.  Far too many possible outcomes and even more possible driving factors.  At least the stars were prettier outside of the city.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Reviews are cherished, if you want to leave one.</p><p>Love and hugs,<br/>Lady Ash</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Ithilien</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adventures from a year in Ithilien.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ummmmm....Hi?  Its been a while.  Shit hit the fan and I got really busy.  And then...wellllll, lets just say that I met someone and I got a bit distracted.  Things have calmed down a fair bit and I should be ready to keep going for a while.</p><p>Art from my lovely <a href="/users/mjolnir107/rel=">Junebug</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had started as a normal day.  They had been out for two months, having been patrolling in Ithilien, making sure that agricultural workers were doing well and were well supplied.  They were heading for the border, where farmland turned into desert.  Clear up the camp, confirm the direction for the day’s travel, tack the horses up, make sure that everyone has eaten and is ready to ride…Estel, Waleed, Fred, and Raashid rode out first, scouting ahead and checking for anything that looked out of place.  There was nothing out of place, but then…then something happened. Estel was in front of the four snipers when it happened. They had been leap frogging in front of each other, trying to make sure that they were all covered, keeping in radio and visual contact at all times. To be fair, with their rifles, visual contact was a bit different than the normal sight range of the typical human.  Estel signaled for a pause, sensing that something was off. One moment it was silent, and the next…I’m not quite certain what happened next. One moment she was fine, and the next, she was collapsed in a hole in the desert sand, a blade or a pipe through her. There was so much blood. I knew there was no time. She needed to be stabilized. Listening to Uncle Elrond teach Estel had taught me that much. I merged part of my being with her, not enough to posses her, but certainly enough to share my energy with her, keeping her alive so the shock wouldn’t kill her. Once Uncle Amras was close enough to keep her stabilized, I don’t remember much of what happened. The next thing I remember was grandfather scolding me. He wasn’t best pleased. I’ll do my best to come back, but it will take a while. I’m tired.</p><p> </p><p>Ana’s injuries hadn’t been as bad as they looked originally, thank the Goddess.  She needed to rest for a few days, but between her incredible luck-none of her organs had been harmed, and she was hardier than the average human-and Amras’s abilities with healing, she was fine.  She even helped Cody and Rhys document the site, taking notes for them and writing up the report.  Hippolyte thought really needed archeologists but needs must.  Ana, Cody, and Rhys especially can investigate crime scenes, but it isn’t something that they’re used to doing.  Ana was good with politics, but she preferred investigations and archeology.  It was a pretty awful scene to watch Ana be impaled, and Hippolyte had heard Ana wake up from nightmares over the next month. Quinn was hovering by Ana’s side, although Rhys was occasionally running interference for Ana to make sure she got a bit of time to herself.  Ana wasn’t the only one having nightmares, after all, even if Hippolyte would only admit that to herself and even then very <em>very</em> quietly. It was rather rude to express emotion publicly, after all. Although she was using that term very loosely because she considered all of these people to be family. </p><p>One thing that quickly grew into a tradition once they rode out to Ithilien was telling stories around the campfire that they weren’t supposed to be burning but burnt anyway.  It helped people calm themselves and keep their trauma under control.  It got far too cold during the desert nights for it to be safe to not have some form of warmth available.  They took turns sharing, and tonight was Amrod’s turn.  Estel used her puppy-dog eyes and asked him to tell the story of The Annatar Incident. This is that story, from Amrod’s perspective.  I have added here and there so you, dear reader, can understand better.  Oh, you thought I had disappeared?  No, my attention has been on Estel, making sure that our line survives and is able to protect our people.  And I have been recovering my strength.  I am still young and unused to doing more than observing.  What happened last month nearly killed Estel.  I used up most of my energy keeping her from death until our kinsmen Amrod and Amras could come and save her.  Grandfather wasn’t best pleased with me when I almost disappeared from existence…. But anyway, back to the story.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Telperinquar Curufinwion was perturbed.  He had recently been visited by an ellon named Annatar.  The meeting had left him unsettled, so he wrote to his father. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His family had been absurdly lucky throughout the war with Morgoth.  His grandfather, Fëanáro had been killed at Alqualondë, but his uncles, through a mixture of luck, skill, and intuition had survived the War of the Jewels and the War of the Wrath. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Uncle Cana and Uncle Nelya’s twin wards, Elerondo-Elrond and Elerossë-Elros were like cousins to Telpe.  When Elros had made his choice to become mortal, all of the family had wept.  Elrond left Himring for Lindon, becoming the Noldoran’s herald and titular heir.  He couldn’t stay in the fortress where he and his twin spent their childhood but still visited regularly and wrote constantly.  When Ereinion and Celebrían eventually wanted to court Elrond, he wrote a letter to Himring.  Uncle Nelya and Uncle Cana were in Lindon within a week of receiving that letter, and Ereinion and Celebrían had to prove that they wanted Elrond’s hand before Elrond’s fathers would let them marry.  The triad were still courting now, Uncle Nelya and Uncle Cana refusing to give Elrond’s hand until the war was over.  Uncle Tyelko’s, Uncle Dior’s and Aunt Nimloth’s twin sons, Lindir and Erestor, were leading scouting parties at the moment as far as Telpe knew.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Celebrimbor was hoping that his intuition was wrong, that he had felt uneasy around Annatar simply because he didn’t know him.  He only briefly mentioned the meeting in his letter, minimizing his fears.  When one of his scouts came riding towards Ost-in-Edhil to inform him of a party flying the crest of the Fëanorians, he grew worried.  Hopefully his father hadn’t been able to read his true feelings about the meeting.  Soon, Maedhros and Curufin Fëanorian were clearly visible in the distance, traveling with a small group of warriors.  That was to be expected, there was no reason to be careless and forget about the troubles in the Wilds simply when visiting a family member.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eventually, the group made their way through the gates, and his uncle and father were arriving at his door.  They both had grim expressions on their faces. Celebrimbor dismissed the servants from the room, stood and bowed saying “My lords, welcome to Eregion.  It is good to see you well.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Telpe.” Curufin’s voice held a warning and a reprimand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Atya, Uncle Nelya, it is truly good to see you.  To what do I owe the pleasure?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maedhros was not pleased, that was certain from his expression.  “Telpe, you wrote about meeting with this Annatar.  It was obvious that you were hiding something about it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Celebrimbor lowered his gaze, lord of a city he may be, but to his family he would always be the little elfling who toddled around at their feet in Formenos.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The meeting left me unsettled, Uncle.  I don’t know what it is, he seemed to charm everyone else, but he made me uneasy.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Summon him please, Telpe.” Curufin’s voice left no room for argument.  Celebrimbor rolled his eyes as soon as he turned his back, only to get swatted “Don’t roll your eyes at </em> <em>me</em> <em> Telpe.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Sorry Atya”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Telpe sounded contrite.  He signaled to a messenger and murmured into his ear his instructions.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Curufin, once Telpe was finished speaking, took his son’s wrist and pulled his son next to and slightly behind him.  Whatever the reason his relatives were there, they were obviously concerned for his safety.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A knock on the door announced Annatar’s presence.  “Come in please, Annatar.” A fair blond ellon entered the room “Thank you for coming on short notice.  This is my uncle, Maedhros Fëanorian, and my father, Curufin Fëanorian.”  Annatar flinched and looked away from Maedhros quickly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hello Mairon. Leave my nephew’s city. Now.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Telpe started to open his mouth, only to have his wrist squeezed in warning and his jaw clicked shut.  He knew what that meant.  The fallen Maia bolted.  Nelya and Curvo let him go, choosing to scold Telpe.</em>
</p><p><em>“Do you know how </em> <em>lucky</em> <em> you were Telpe?  If you hadn’t been so perturbed by the meeting, and if I hadn’t been able to read you so well, you could have ended up dead.  What did he want Telperinquar?”</em></p><p><em>Telpe’s expression was mutinous.  Yes, Curufin was his father, but he was of age and a lord in his own right.  “Don’t think about it Telpe.  I would rather know if </em> <em>my son</em> <em> was in danger or has been ensnared in one of the Enemy’s plans then to be left in the dark and worry.  Telperinquar, tell me.  Now pitya.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“He wanted help forging rings.  3 for the Elves, 7 for the Dwarves, 9 for Men.  I had been delaying.”  A messenger ran into the room “My lords, the city is under attack by orcs.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Evacuate the city.  Now.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, my lord.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As the messenger left the room, Telpe rushed to a bookcase, where he pulled a sword from a hidden compartment, saying “I need to get to the forges.  Are you with me, or am I doing this one on my own?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You think I’m letting you out of my sight any time soon?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The group of warriors-all of whom he recognized, including his cousins Lindir and Erestor suddenly appeared out of the shadows.  “Now what is at the forges that is so urgent?”</em>
</p><p><em>“My guess, what the orcs-and Annatar were after.  Rings of Power.  I was able to make one for Fire, Air, and Water.  I did my best to ensure that the Enemy could never use them, but no system is perfect.” Telpe said as he led the group to the forges.  They met orcs along the way, killing them as they went.  As they ran into the forges, there was a figure standing in the flickering firelight.  “Annatar.  Normally I would be absolutely fine with what you did, but then you simply </em> <em>had</em> <em> to threaten my city and my family.”  Telpe drew his sword, “Step away from the forge and the rings.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Mairon didn’t even flinch, “You don’t scare me, little elfling.  I-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Maia was cut off by Telpe’s sword getting far too close to his neck.  It was a distraction, Telpe needed to get to the rings before Sauron could corrupt them to his purposes-whatever they may be.  He was too late though, and the last he remembered before being knocked unconscious was his father stepping in between him, and the Dark Lord.</em>
</p><p><em>When he woke up again, he didn’t immediately recognize the ceiling that he was looking up at.  “I know you are awake Telperinquar.”  Macalaurë Fëanorian, his second-oldest uncle was sitting in the room, which meant he was in Himring.  </em> <em>Great</em> <em>.  He would be watched very carefully from then on until all of the brothers decided it was safe to let him out of their sight. “Hello Uncle Cana.  What happened?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“You were knocked unconscious by Sauron.  Rather than fight him, Nelya and Curvo decided that you were more important and got you out of there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The rings?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Taken.  Our elvish cousins have been warned.  It was foolish to make them.  You know that, yes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know, but I needed to figure out what he wanted from me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You should have told us from the beginning Telpe.  Elerondo has said that you should stay in bed for another few days at minimum-and that you haven’t been eating or sleeping which we will be discussing later.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Elerondo is being a hypocrite if he’s going to complain about me working instead of sleeping-and it was only a few meals here and there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Telpe. Do not tempt me while you are still recovering.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry Uncle Cana.  Eregion?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Safe enough.  I’m going to take over daily functions while you’re recovering.  Limited casualties, your order to evacuate the city was a good one.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Telpe smiled gratefully “Thank you, Uncle.” He reached under his shirt to get a ring “You’ll need this.  It’s the Lord’s signet ring.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you Telpe.  Now sleep, you need it.”  Macalaurë started singing a slow, soothing lullaby quietly, and Telpe soon fell asleep.  “I know you’re over there, little brother.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Curufin walked out of the shadows cast around the edges of the room, “At least he’s woken now.  Elerondo can rest easier.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I won’t have to spank him for neglecting his health to tend to another.  We were so lucky Curvo.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If we hadn’t been there, if Telpe hadn’t been so disturbed by that meeting…There are so many things that could have changed the outcome of this mishap.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, you won’t be letting him out of your sight for the next indeterminable amount of time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The same way you didn’t let Elerondo out of your sight after we heard of Elerossë’s passing?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Point taken, little brother.  I need to head to Eregion.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Be careful, Cana.  I can’t get the image of him falling with Sauron looming over him out of my head.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Macalaurë stood and hugged his little brother.  “Parenthood is a dangerous proposition.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I miss her Cana.  She always seemed to know when something was wrong with him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She died protected you both.  She would have wanted nothing more than that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know.” Curufin blinked away the sudden tears in his eyes “You have to start your journey Cana.”</em>
</p><p><em>“I’ll be careful.  Take care of yourself </em> <em>and </em> <em>Telpe.  Oh, I threatened him with a spanking for not taking care of himself.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I’ll keep that promise for you if he decides to be that foolish.  Be safe, Cana.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So long little Curvo.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The next time Telpe woke up, it was to Elerondo tending to his head.  “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.  You managed to infuriate all of them this time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You haven’t?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m rather good at hiding when I’m not feeling well, and I don’t tell them when I’ve been mildly injured.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Which is going to get you in trouble, my son.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maedhros walked into the room.  “Meet me in your room, Elerondo.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Atya.” Elrond rushed out of the room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And as for you, if I find out about you covering for your cousin, and Telpe, I will find out, then you can be assured that you both will be in trouble.  You’ve been cleared to walk around the fortress, but no training, or working of any kind.  We will find out, pitya.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I understand, Uncle.  I’ll behave.”  Telpe didn’t want to deal with Uncle Nelya when he was in this kind of mood.  It would prove disastrous for any type of independence in the near future.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maedhros left the room with a stern “Behave Telpe” so he could deal with his own trouble-making son.  Telpe decided to walk around and try to find his Atya.  He knew that this was going to be a long visit, and it would be better to have company.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Elrond was walking quickly towards his room, taking the long route to calm down before facing certain doom.  Maedhros was able to catch up to him quickly, and once he did, he put his hand on the small of Elrond’s back in order to direct him towards his quarters.  Once they were in private, Maedhros started to lecture. “We have had this conversation more than once, Elerondo.  Do I need to write to Lindon to inform the Pityaran that you cannot attend him there for the near future while we work on your self-care?”  Elrond shook his head, “Verbally please, ionya.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, Atya, you don’t need to contact Ereinion.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We shall see, won’t we?  What would happen to a human if they skipped meals, ignored illnesses, and forwent sleep?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They would grow weak quickly.  Attention would suffer, headaches, tension, paranoia, nausea.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I have felt all of those symptoms, Atya.  I haven’t been able to sleep well since Elerossë left.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maedhros sat on Elrond’s bed and pulled him over his knee.  “You know better than to hide anything like that from us.  Do you understand, Elerondo?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Atya.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maedhros spanked Elrond until he was certain that Elrond got the point he was trying to convey.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I already lost your brother, little star, what makes you think I would survive losing you too?” Once Maedhros was finished, he gathered Elrond up onto his lap and comforted him as Elrond cried for the first time since losing his twin.  Elrond was still young, especially in comparison to Maedhros, who had been born under the light of the Two Trees.  Eventually Elrond stopped crying and Maedhros put him to bed.  He fell asleep almost instantly, especially after Maedhros tucked his stuffed dolphin-a gift from Lindir- into Elrond’s arms.  Maedhros was content to stay in Elrond’s room until he woke up, but Amras knocked quietly on the door.  “Pitya?  What is it?”</em>
</p><p><em>“The Pityaran has sent a messenger asking about his Herald.  Would you like to give him something to convey to Artan</em> <em>á</em> <em>ro?”  Maedhros stood reluctantly, “Can you stay with him?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Of course, Nelya.  I’ll make sure he eats when he wakes up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you Pitya.”  The pair switched positions, with Amras sitting down and Maedhros leaving the room.  Maedhros walked towards the receiving room, where he was sure the messenger was located.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My lord Nelyafinwë, it is good to see you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Artanáro!  Amras said that you had sent a messenger, not that you were here yourself.  And what have I said about formality?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry Uncle Nelya.  It’s been an interesting ride here.  I was hoping to speak with you without the prying eyes of my Court” Gil-Galad rolled his eyes in frustration.  “Have you noticed anything off with Elrond lately?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s not eating or sleeping enough, again.  I have a feeling that he is overworking himself as well.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He has as long as you deem necessary to recover.  I sent him here after you wrote about Celebrimbor’s injuries hoping that you would be able to help him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He refuses to see a mind-healer?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He talks circles around them and convinces them that he isn’t a patient.  I don’t know what to do.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We’ll handle him, Artanáro.  I’ll write when he is well again.  Until then, I would use another ellon or elleth as your Herald.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I will.  Thank you, Uncle.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And Artanáro?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Uncle?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Get some sleep and some food.  You need it.  Finderato gave us permission to discipline you if I thought you needed it before he went on that fool's errand of a quest.  He was my shield-brother, and as good as another blood brother to me and my brothers.  Círdan has stated that he will inform me if you aren’t taking care of yourself.  You may be the Noldoran, but you are still my nephew and younger kinsman.  I will do as I must to keep you safe, healthy, and hale.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I will Uncle.  Thank you for caring.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Little flame, we will always care.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Amrod came into the room with a tray of food meant for three.  “Amras mentioned something about our young nephew needing to eat more?”</em>
</p><p><em>“He would love to eat” Maedhros gave Gil-Galad a </em> <em>look</em> <em> that clearly stated he should eat.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Yes, I would.  It’s good to see you again, Uncle Amrod”</em>
</p><p><em>“Your accent is </em> <em>terrible</em> <em> Ereinion, when was the last time you spoke Quenya for more than a short amount of time?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Lindon is mostly a Sindar city.  There are not many Noldor in Lindon.  Elerondo, myself, and the lady Celebrían are the only ones that I can think of immediately.  Lady Galadriel tends to stay where her husband is, and Círdan may be Noldo, but he lived in Doriath for years, so he’s more used to speaking Sindarin.”</em>
</p><p><em>“</em> <em>Ereinion</em> <em>.” Amrod’s voice warned of dire consequences if he didn’t continue to talk. “The lady Celebrían only speaks Sindarin fluently, and Elerondo doesn’t use it often when we’re at Court.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“So, you are being forced to lose your culture and some of your last connections to family because of Court machinations.  When was the last time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Elerossë leaving for the world of Men, just over 1500 years ago.  Occasionally when Elerondo and I are in private.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Amrod and Maedhros shared a significant look.  More of the family would be moving to Lindon, it would seem.  Telpe, depending on how much structural damage Eregion had sustained, may be staying at Himring.  Cana would be determining if it would be worth salvaging the city, or if a new city should be established elsewhere.  Cana had a strong connection to the land, able to sense where there was too much darkness to settle down.  He had chosen where to begin Himring, which was strategically important because of its proximity to Angbad and was close to the sea, so it would have a consistent supply of food if the crops failed.  They hadn’t informed Telpe of that, naturally.  He needed time to heal before doing any sort of work. They would see how he did. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Over the next several weeks, Telpe and Elerondo recovered their strength, both getting in trouble with all of the brothers for overexerting themselves or forgetting to eat.  Eventually, the pair recovered to the point where the brothers decided that they didn’t need constant supervision.  Eregion was declared to be uninhabitable, and none of the elves who were there on the day of the attack wanted to return.  Some went to Lindon, others to Himring.  Elerondo and Ereinion found a valley near Eregion that would be a good haven if they ever needed to settle elsewhere.  Telpe stayed at Himring to assist the sons of Fëanáro in their defense of the far North.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>They set a watch and went to sleep soon after the story was finished.  They were all tired, some more than others.  A few days later had them traveling through the desert between Ithilien and Harad.  It had been a relatively smooth ride so far. “What the fuck?  Ana, get over here.” She spoke too soon. <em>What now</em>? Estel thought as she rode over to <em>Freya</em>?  It was unlike her to swear.  And then she caught sight of what had Freya concerned.  A skeleton-wait no-multiple skeletons.  They weren’t near any of the old massacre sites, to Estel’s knowledge. </p><p>“Everyone, halt here.  Freodhoric, set up camp at that site we saw about a mile back. Rhys, Damon, Cody-can you take a look at this?  I want to know if we should call it in.” Estel bellowed.  The last thing they needed was Command on their asses for not calling something in if it was important or calling it in if it wasn’t important.  Mírial rode up to Estel and saw what she was looking at. “Fuck.  It looks like a scene out of a horror movie, love.” Mírial wasn’t wrong.  It looked like a mass grave, the type that you see at mass execution sites.  It looked relatively recent too-had to be less than 50 years old to survive in this soil.  Any longer than that, and the acid in the soil would dissolve the bones.  Mírial touched her radio “Quinny, can you or one of the other medics come and take a look at this?  It looks like it’s a scene straight out of the Enemy’s book of horrors.” Hearing Quinn reply affirmatively, Mírial took her hand off of her radio.  “Estel, you don’t have to deal with this if you don’t want to.  I can handle it.” She said quietly in Quenya.</p><p>Estel nodded, but Mírial suspected that it wasn’t really okay with her.  Quenya was the less popular language between the two major Elvish dialects.  The Noldor used it extensively, but that was about it.  Few people beyond that used the language, and even some of the Noldor didn’t use it outside of historical texts. Naturally, Purple used it as their main means of communication when they wanted privacy, or more usually had a confidential report that they needed to make in public.</p><p>“Ana, are you certain that you want to take point for this one?  I won’t judge you for it, either way.  I know that you’re a bit raw from the shitshow that was last month.”  Mírial repeated herself, her tone getting stricter, more formal.</p><p>“I’m fine, Mírial.  It’s not ideal, by any means, but it’s doable, and I need to get better at dealing with my emotions anyway.”  Ana replied.  She hoped that she was telling the truth, or at least something resembling the truth. Mírial had a hard hand and didn’t care if they would be riding for most of the day after she disciplined Ana.  She actually said it “made sure Ana got the point.”  Mírial was ruthless, but then again, Ana was just as strict with her when the tables were turned.  They had fallen into a relationship where they held each other accountable.   Ectheilion may not have spanked, but Anthes, Mírial’s mum, certainly did before she passed on past the bounds of this world.</p><p>“I’ll hold you to that, babe.  I don’t want to find out you were lying to me later, am I understood?”</p><p>“Crystal clear, love.  I promise, I can handle it, and if I can’t, I’ll tell you.”</p><p>“Thank you, love.  Now, let’s go do our jobs.”  Mírial walked over to Quinn, “Anything yet?”</p><p>“Not that I can tell.  Ana, can you take a look at this and tell me what you see?”</p><p>Ana jumped into the space next to the objects that Quinn indicated, “Bones.  Almost certainly human.  Unlikely but possible to be Eldar.  The bones don’t feel right to be Elvish.  Cut marks in the bones, suggesting some type of processing.  Potentially defleshing, possibly some other type of processing.  We’d need a microscope to verify.  C, I need you or one of the other twos to call it in to Command.  Too many variables that we can’t confirm here.”</p><p>Cody nodded in acknowledgement.  He had benefited from their time so far on the border, his skin more golden-brown and his hair lighter.  He felt healthier.  And he had a six-pack that Quinn apparently <em>appreciated </em>very much.  As he walked to the nearest high point to find a signal, Cody noted the exact coordinates for the log.  Mírial said that there was a dead drop nearby that they could use to leave their reports and logs.  Hopefully it would be enough for another team to investigate the location.  Preferably one equipped for scientific inquiry instead of a fully-equipped war party.  Anyway.  It was time to move on.</p><p>“Mírial, Command said to drop the coordinates with the report at the nearest dead-drop along with all our reports that we’ve generated so far.  Estel, Quinny, write it up and give it to Mírial.  We can do it at our camp site for the evening.”</p><p>“Probably a couple of days, C.  The dead-drop is at least half a day’s ride away, and I’ll need someone from the Eyes squad to go with me for a witness.”</p><p>“Fine, a couple of days.  You can head out with Hilde tomorrow at first light.  Everyone agreed?”</p><p>Nods from the remaining three signaled that they were all prepared to go with this plan of action.  Cody led the others to their horses. Rhys and Damon had already covered up the area that they had found before riding back to camp while the others talked.  After mounting up, and returning to camp, Estel and Quinn wrote a report together while Mírial handled their horses.  Isilëo had taken a liking to Mírial, contrary to most horses, who were either indifferent or despised her. </p><p>The camp was set up well before they got there, which was a relief for Estel. She did not have the mental capacity to deal with any extra shit today. She winced as the new scar tissue stretched uncomfortably when she sat down. That was annoying.  And she was still getting used to it.  Tamaraa would be telling the story tonight, and she said that she wasn’t entirely certain on how to tell her story, but this is how she started her tale.</p><p>
  <em>Most of you already know parts of this story.  I will tell you the story of the faith that my parents brought from Harad, and how that faith led to the destruction of their reputations and ultimate exile from Harad to Minas Tirith.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We were followers of the One God.  It was not a well-liked religion, and with good reason.  At one point in time, when we were at the height of our power, we oppressed everyone else and trampled over their rights.  That time is long-gone now.  I tell you this story so you are aware of the lessons that can be learned from our ultimate downfall, and because of the ties into Harad’s current diplomatic tensions and sociopolitical unrest.  Tamaraa’s voice was serious, almost lyrical as she spoke.  She was telling this story as her parents had told her, like one of the legends of old Harad. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harad was not always closed to all religions, in fact within living memory, it was a hotbed of emerging religions, usually focusing on one or two gods, instead of the polytheism that was abundant everywhere else.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It turns out, that there is a reason for that commonality, which was unknown for the general public until very recently.  It had a historical basis, and honestly, explains a lot about the past. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My parents found out that the One God was none other than the Old Master-the one you know as Sauron or Gorthaur.  They were horrified, as they knew that the Old One was no god, and hardly a good presence to worship.  Mum had grown up on the border with Ithilien and had heard their stories.  Of course, they, being good citizens, informed the local government, who informed the higher-ups, until the highest-ranked Oligarchs of Harad were involved.  No one wanted to deal with the absolute shitshow that would result if the general population were to be informed.  My parents informed the people, and they were exiled because of it.  They ran to Gondor and never looked back.  Change did result from it, though.  Harad has become closed to all outsiders and decided that all religions must be destroyed.  Religions, all religions, have been declared illegal and immoral.  People of my parents’ generation are the last that could practice their religious beliefs openly.  The government wants to control people any way they can, and an individual’s beliefs are among the most intimate and personal ways to control someone. That is why they want to destroy Gondor, officially, because of religion.  Because my parents decided that people needed to be told, damn the consequences.  My parents may as well have started a war.  They were young, true, but they could have guessed what the outcome would be, and what the government would do to mitigate their actions.  War is what will happen eventually, probably sooner than later.   Likely within our lifetimes, if not, then definitely within our children’s lifetimes.  It is part of the reason I am so worried as we get closer to Harad.  I don’t know how much my family is remembered, and me specifically, but the last thing we need is to get into trouble with the authorities and me be recognized.  It could get all of you killed, and I don’t want that on my conscious.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now that I’ve given you my warning, I will tell a lighter tale, one of friendship.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was fifteen when the time came for me to be conscripted.  I was worried that I wouldn’t make any friends, and more importantly, that I wouldn’t be able to trust anyone because of my background.  I knew how Minas Tirith felt about people with my ancestry, and I assumed everywhere else would be the same.  This is a story about how I figured out that none of you cared about it, and that the military in general were a lot more open-minded than the general public, in some ways more so than others.  There was one incident more than any other that convinced me of that.  It was evaluation week, and we were on duty. Someone threw some sort of rock at me, and Mirial-y’know the Steward’s daughter and heir-stood in front of me to take the blow for me.  Fred shot the bastard in the knees so he wouldn’t get away, and Quinn checked both Mírial and me for injuries.  That is when I realized that I was incredibly lucky, and I had found people that would have my back, and I would have theirs.  Always.</em>
</p><p>Hippolyte was tired.  It had been six months give or take since they had started out.  They were passing close enough to the fortress-refuge of Henneth Annun that they decided to re-supply.  Ana needed rest from the riding for a few days.  She had been hiding it, but they could all tell that her scars were bothering her, and the rest would help those wounds fully heal.  If nothing else, Mírial would be instantly recognizable, and that would get them into the fort.  Hippolyte might be recognized as well, seeing as this was a stop on the underground escape routes to freedom for runaway slaves, political dissidents, and asylum seekers, not that most people knew that.  Hippolyte had been here before, learning the routes by heart from her father, who was a guide, and in his spare time, worked wood for buildings and boats.  She had shaved her head at the beginning of her time at the Academy, and was ordinary-looking, so hopefully, she wouldn’t be recognized.  Time would tell.  They were about to hit the checkpoint.  Here’s hoping that people remember how to be <em>discreet</em>. </p><p>Her breath caught as she entered the city.  No matter how many times she came, the beauty of this place always struck her momentarily speechless.  The green vegetation and waterfalls made it obvious why this place was originally chosen as a place of refuge and military strength.  Constant fresh water and fertile land were absolutely essential for any sort of permanent habitation, as was some sort of defensible position.  The mountains on all but one side made the settlement claustrophobic, but it was compensated for with the sheer defensibility of the area.  Gun placements and watch towers rounded out the defense network of Henneth Annun.  The guard at the post challenged Mirial, and she gave the correct answers.  They rode through the waterfall into the fort proper and were greeted by the commandant of the fort.</p><p>“Ana of the North?”</p><p>“That would be me, sir.”</p><p>“You are needed in the ops room.  Please follow me.”</p><p>“Yes sir.  Charlie 4, take over for me.”</p><p>“yes sir.”</p><p>Hippolyte waited until she wouldn’t be noticed, and then followed her commander.  Mírial figured this would happen and didn’t want Ana to be left by herself to deal with politics.  No one deserved that.  Especially not Ana.  She was, in general, sweet and kind-although she had the ability to be cold and ruthless.  If Hippolyte swung the other way, she would <em>certainly </em>be attempting to find her way into Ana’s bed.  Ana was <em>hot</em> when she was ruthless.  It was the work of a few minutes to get into the Commandant’s office unnoticed and was treated to the sight of her <em>friend</em> being beaten into the ground.  Racist slurs and kicking the young woman curled up in a ball, trying to protect her head told Hippolyte all she needed to know.  As soon as the group of men that were supposed to be respectable momentarily lost interest, she took Ana’s barely conscious body to Quinn.  He got territorial about people other than him treating Alpha. </p><p>“Mírial, you need to know this.  They were beating her up, and based on what I heard stated, because of her ancestry.”</p><p>“Thank you for letting me know, Hippolyte.  I appreciate it.”</p><p>It was out of her hands now, and based off of Mírial’s expression, going to be handled. Efficiently, and preferably with someone’s hands being cut off.</p><p>They resupplied as quickly as possible in Henneth Annun, having no desire to be there longer than absolutely necessary, and left swiftly.  They found a place that was safe enough to stay and make camp for a few days so Ana could heal. </p><p>One day, while the group was waiting for Ana to be able to ride without injuring herself further, Hippolyte noticed that she and Amrod and Amras were having a discussion.  Eventually, it looked like they reached an agreement.  She thought nothing more of it until later that evening, once they had settled down and Amras started telling a story.</p><p>
  <em>The spring rains had come in earnest when Arathorn’s daughter was born.  They had come to Imladris about a week before Gilraen’s waters broke, and three weeks after Uncle Elrond wanted them to be there.  Gil’s pregnancy had been high-risk from the start.  Elrond himself delivered their baby. She almost immediately peed in Elrond’s face. Arathorn had almost fell on the floor laughing as he asked Elrond “has the family tradition continued uncle?” Elrond smiled and said “I will make sure you daughter learns how to curse in three different languages before she’s ten.” There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he said that.  One that Arathorn could tell was teasing…mostly. “She looks almost exactly like your grandmother Míriel, little hunter. And Arathorn? Congratulations. You are a father, be a good one.” Elrond challenged, as he did all of the fathers of their line.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I intend to, uncle. Now is there anything beyond the obvious to watch for in both of them?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Keep a close eye on Gilraen’s sugar and blood pressure. She was preeclamptic and prediabetic. Have you two come up with a name for her yet?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, we thought she was going to be a boy.” Noting Elrond’s expression, Arathorn asked “What is it, uncle?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Gilraen already knows, but you should know as well. You lost a child during the birth. A boy. I am so sorry, little hunter”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Arathorn smiled sadly “We were going to name him Aragorn” His voice was hoarse. Elrond hugged him empathetically “I am so sorry love. What would you like to do with the body?” Elrond knew that Arathorn preferred practicalities to sentiment, much like Maedhros.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Give him to the waters. Ulmo can claim yet another one of my people. He, at least, has always been kind to us.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Indeed, would you like me to handle the arrangements?” Arathorn nodded wordlessly. He had a child to celebrate, and a child to grieve. Red hair obscured his view for a moment and distracted him from Elrond leaving. “Uncle Amras?” Arathorn murmured questioningly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I just heard Arathorn. I am so sorry. And I am so happy for you. You are planning on staying for a few days, correct?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That was the original plan. Gilraen needs to heal, still, and neither of us wants to risk the roads with a newborn. Uncle Elrond has offered us his hospitality for as long as we need.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But Dirhael has given us a report that is concerning.  We are undecided at this point in time, but I doubt we will linger as long as we should.”</em>
</p><p><em>“How</em> <em> long can you be gone?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Realistically? A month at most. We need to be back before planting season. We’ve already been gone for a week, and it takes a few hours of travel time to get back there”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Plenty of time, and if anything happens, we can ride together”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“thank you, uncle Amras. I appreciate it, truly.  What are you trying to distract me from?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“As blunt as always, I see.  Most of the family is here and planning on having a feast to celebrate your daughter’s birth. It’s an excuse. They were going to hold a feast, so don’t feel obligated to come.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do we need to put in an appearance to prove we exist?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, you should be okay.  I’d sneak out tonight if Gilraen is up for it.  Amrod and I can go with you.  No one would think badly of you for slipping away.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll check with Gilraen when she wakes up, although that sounds extremely tempting.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Be safe, whatever you decide to do.  For my sanity’s sake if nothing else.” Amras’ eyes were dark with worry.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We’ll do our best, Uncle.  Our priorities have shifted a fair bit.  Her safety will be our priority.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good.  Be safe, Arathorn.” Amras looked like he wanted to say something else, but he simply clasped Arathorn’s shoulder in farewell and left.  Gilraen and Arathorn decided to leave that night.  The threat would be minimal for another few weeks, until the ground hardened after the spring thaw.  Arathorn and Gilraen did end up riding back to the Angle that night, knowing that the fewer people who knew their exact plans and location, the better.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Months passed, and before they knew it, it was summer.  It was an idyllic day in the Angle, mid-June, warm and sunny, without a cloud in sight. Brighde loved this weather. She was on her knees, blonde hair frizzy and pulled up and away from her face, hands working on the dark soil, pulling weeds away from her herbs. She had a gun strapped to her leg and another within easy reach. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One of the few good things to come from Gondor’s war machine were the weapons that conscripts got to keep when their term was up. Smart, because otherwise most people would just simply steal them. Much easier than just making your own. And it helped ensure Gondor had strong military reserves. Basic loyalty and indoctrination as well. The joys of being the sworn sister of a queen; understanding politics and keeping secrets, she had to be good at both. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She and Gil had become pregnant at roughly the same time. Brighde bore a stillborn and Gilraen gave birth to a tiny baby girl. They pretended that the child was Brighde’s in front of outsiders, but in private? She watched Gilraen nurse their daughter. She was a good baby and Gil was a good mother.  There was a commotion as the alarm horns were sounded.  Yrch.  Fuck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Gil, go inside and hide!  We’ll handle it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If you think I am going to sit back and watch others defend my people, you are absolutely mad.  I will go and hide though.  I’ll find you if we need to evacuate.”  So many things were left unsaid, but Brighde was well aware what they were.  Both ran in opposite directions, well-practiced in their roles for the defense of their home.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eventually, the lines broke, and they were overrun.  Brighde looked around for Gil, knowing that she had to check to see if she was alive or dead.  "Brighde!  Come here." Gilraen Dirhaeliel hissed from the shadows behind Brighde, her red hair tucked next to her head, a far cry from its usual untamed, long, flowing in the wind mop of fire.  She shoved a bundle from beneath her cloak into Brighde's arms.  "Bring her to Imladris.  Her name is Anâriel.  And then do not come back here.  Go to the White City.  My guards will go with you."  Unsheathing her sword, "If Arathorn and I are both killed, they will think they broke the line of Kings.  Go, Brighde.  I love you, dear friend.  Protect your goddaughter."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"With my life, sister."  Brighde said, pulling up her hood, and melting into the forest with Gilraen's guards, finding the horses hidden for this very purpose.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They rode through the forests of the North, shot down by arrows and bullets one by one as they traveled, protecting their charge, and their future.  Brighde was left with only one other by the time she could see the hidden valley, when she herself was shot.  She forced herself to ride on, a sentry meeting her at the hidden gates.  "Gilraen Dirhaeliel said to say that her name is Anâriel Arathorniel.  The Angle is destroyed, and the line of kings must be seen as broken." blood bubbled from her mouth, "Ask the Noldoran to protect my Queen.  She is one of the last of my people, and the last of the direct line."  With that, Brighde died, her mission fulfilled.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sentry took the child into her arms, her dark hair and silver eyes marking her as an Ereiniel, a daughter of the Noldoran.  This was Elwen, the only royal child to show her Teleri heritage in her features.  A quick burst of osanwë alerted her father of an impending arrival with a potential medical emergency.  Elrond acknowledged her, and she walked towards the palace.  Elwen passed another sentry on her way there, and they took her place in the patrol detail.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once she entered the halls of healing, Elrond took one look at the bundle in Elwen's arms and raised his eyebrows questioningly.  "A ranger brought her with the news that the line of Kings has been broken, the child's name is Anâriel Arathorniel, and the Angle has been destroyed.  She died almost immediately after telling me this.  Shot to the lung, most likely.  What will we do?  That's definitely Gilraen's daughter."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Mom, dad, and I will talk about it.  Go back to your patrol, and trust that we'll deal with it."  He pressed a kiss to Elwen's forehead and turned to the far too quiet four-month-old baby girl.  He may not have been a dedicated pediatrician, his usual patients being adult elves or Dúnedain, but he certainly knew enough to do a well-baby check.  This was definitely the baby he had delivered four months ago, although her eyes had already started shifting away from their baby blue into the family gray.  Anâriel, hmm?  It was a strong name.  Siobhan would have approved.  He missed his law-sister still.   She had been an incredible woman, he mused as he picked up the child and walked with her in his arms to find his spouses.  They had a decision to make.  And something told Elrond that this decision was going to shape history.  It didn’t take long for Elrond to find Celebrían and tell her what he knew, and for them to both agree that they needed to talk with Ereinion before making a decision.  Entering the throne room together, they garnered some interest.  It was unusual for them to all be in the throne room at the same time.  Especially if Elrond had a baby in his arms.  “Everyone who does not have codeword clearance or higher, please leave the room.” Ereinion Gil-Galad commanded. After watching some of the courtiers file out, Elrond spoke, “Arathorn Aradorion and Gilraen Dirhaeliel are dead.  There was a raid on the Angle.  All of the rangers accompanying this child were killed.  Anâriel Arathorniel has no place to go, and her mother requested sanctuary for her until such time as it was safe for her to reveal herself.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A councilor that worked specifically with communications and intelligence, Glavrolben, spoke “Anâriel Arathorniel has passed from one life to the next, and we greatly regret her passing.  Coincidentally, Imladris has taken in a new fosterling.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They’ll never believe that Glavrolben.  Or if they do, they’ll doubt it to Taniquetil and back.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We don’t need them to believe it, just to accept it as the truth that is being offered.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Arathorn and Gilraen never announced their child’s birth beyond family.  Brighde of the North was pretending that she was the mother, in order to protect the child.” Princess Làstril was present, which was unlike her.  She usually resided in Lothlórien, with her grandparents, but she must have been recalled for a diplomatic mission by Ereinion.  “It will be as if they died childless.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Smart of them.  Your majesties, who will take them in?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The three monarchs were communicating with osanwë, before coming to a decision.  “I am Celebrían Celeborniel, Queen of the Noldor and Princess of the Sindar.  I claim this child as my own and my spouses.  I name her Estel Ereiniel.  She is the hope of the Dúnedain, and the hope of Man.”  Celebrían used the gifts of foresight that she had inherited from her mother and allowed them to guide her.  She wasn’t going to adopt her daughter at first, but it felt right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am Làstril Ereiniel, Princess of the Noldor.  I bear witness and accept this child as my sister.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am Elerondo Macalaurion, Master Healer.  I consent to this adoption and declare before this assembly that Estel is a healthy child and we will endeavor to keep her healthy and happy as she grows up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am Ereinion Artanáro Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor.  I seal this adoption as legal under our laws and the laws of the Dúnedain.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was done, then.  Anâriel Arathorniel, High Queen-in-waiting of Gondor and Arnor would be hidden amongst the Eldar until it was time for her to emerge from the shadows and step into the light.</em>
</p><p>Amras had certainly set the fox in the henhouse with that story.  Mírial, Rhys, Cody, and Quinn already knew, but none of the others had any idea, although that may have been from purposeful ignorance more than anything else in some cases.</p><p>“I am sorry for concealing this from you all for so long.  I needed to be certain that none of you would betray my secret to anyone who would use the information to hurt me.  I hope that one day, you can forgive my deception.” Ana stated, her obvious guilt softening their feelings of betrayal and hurt somewhat.  “I know that day may not be today or tomorrow, but we all need to be able to work together and have each other’s back.  Is anyone not okay with working with me anymore?  I know this isn’t a small secret.  You can tell me later, or one of the others.  Please make your decision before the end of tomorrow.”</p><p>Hippolyte read through Ana’s seemingly emotionless words to the heart of her emotions.  Ana was guilty, and vulnerable, and relieved.  Nothing really surprising considering the breadth of her deception.</p><p>Quinn said something that stunned Hippolyte, “If we’re going to be spilling deep, dark secrets, you should also know that I am employed by Mordor to relay intelligence to then, especially anything that happens along the border.  I have been feeding them a restricted amount of information since about our second week of the Academy.  Cody was aware, but outside of our group, no one knows.”</p><p>Mírial spoke up, “That’s not quite true.  Ana and I were aware, and my father as well.  We’ve been working on making sure you’re comfortable here and limiting the amount of information that gets into the hands of our enemies since we became aware of your actions. I am sorry, all of you, for our deceptions.  This is information that you do need, but we needed to be certain that it was the correct time to tell you.”</p><p>“Now that we have the dramatic revelations of the day settled, can we get on with our night?  I know that there are still several tasks to finish.” Cody said drily.  Everyone laughed, grateful for the levity in such a serious conversation.  It broke the tension, and people started to move on to their other tasks of the evening-repairs, patrol, and the like.  It ended up being a good evening, and their bonds became even closer than before, after a time of contemplating the results of that night’s conversation.</p><p>Quinn looked up at a sound outside the tent.  Ana came in from her watch shift.  She looked haggard and had dark shadows under her eyes as she took off her helmet.</p><p>“Ana?” Quinn murmured, trying to avoid waking up Mírial and Cody. </p><p>Ana looked at Quinn who raised his blanket in invitation.  Ana smiled gratefully before slipping in with Quinn in her under armor.  She almost immediately fell asleep.  Quinn had to marvel at how much Ana trusted him.  He knew that she knew he was less than loyal to Gondor-but then again, so was she.  She also knew that he was likely loyal to Lord Sauron and still trusted him at his back.  He was honored that she would trust him like that, and it made him think-but he wouldn’t think about that now.  It was time to sleep.  The people that he most cared for were safe and around him, and that was enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed!  Please feel free to leave kudos or comments!</p><p>Love and Hugs,<br/>Lady Ash</p></blockquote></div></div>
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